Impossible to Reid sequel to Tortured Expression
by tastybitsODP
Summary: Can Reid and Paige have a normal relationship despite all the obstacles? Or will their past haunt them forever? Reid/Morgan competition. Somewhat fluffy. Violence is pretty graphic. Reviews equal love!
1. Chapter 1

Impossible to Reid

Criminal Minds Fan Fiction

Sequel to Tortured Expression

Chapter 1: Reid's POV

Reid unlocked his door and entered his house, carrying a bag of groceries. He smiled as he looked around the once empty and dreary kitchen. Things had certainly changed since he'd started dating Paige. His house actually looked lived in and he looked forward to his days off. He actually bought groceries now, instead of relying on take out to live. Paige enjoyed cooking for him, which he didn't fully understand. He found cooking to be unpleasant and a waste of time, but he did like eating what Paige cooked for him.

He finished putting away the groceries and walked aimlessly into the living room, not sure how he should spend his time until Paige got out from work. She'd called to let him know she was going to be late. They'd planned a special dinner for their two month anniversary, and he was looking forward to it. He decided that he was going to do some of the paperwork he'd brought home. He'd started bringing work home more and more instead of staying at the office later. His coworkers often teased him about it, asking him if Paige helped him with his homework. He knew it was well-intentioned and not malicious, and to be honest it didn't bother him at all.

After a little under an hour of mind-numbing box-checking and report writing, he heard a knock on the door. He practically flew to the door and after double-checking through the peephole, opened it.

"Paige!" he said happily. He waited, somewhat impatiently for her to put her shoulder bag down, then grasped her gently by the arm and pulled her into his embrace, moving his hands to the small of her back and tenderly crushing her to his chest, enjoying the feel of her warmth and softness against him. He kissed her and savored the taste of her mouth. This was the reason why he came home as often as he could. She made him feel human.

He reluctantly let her go after a moment. She smiled up at him, her face easy to read. She was happy to see him. She'd missed him...and she wanted him.

"Hey Spencer," she said, and leaned in for another kiss. That was one thing he loved about her. She always wanted one more kiss. "C'mon," she said, moving past him towards the kitchen. "If I don't start cooking dinner we won't be able to eat until midnight."

She set him up with something safe to do, in this case slicing cucumbers for the salad. It amused him that he was trusted to carry a gun and conduct interviews with serial killers, and yet if he even looked at the stove she panicked. Despite her worry, it only took them an hour to make dinner. They made salad, steak, mashed potatoes, and Spencer watched, amazed as she pulled a fully made and frosted cake from her shoulder bag.

"Did you have that in your bag all day?" he asked incredulously. She laughed.

"I picked it up from my place on the way over," she said. "I wanted it to be perfect." She pushed her curly brown hair behind her ears the way she always did when she was nervous.

"You're nervous," he informed her. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"I guess that's what I get for dating a profiler," she murmured. "I'm nervous because I have something to tell you, and I'm not sure how you'll react." Reid felt a stab of panic. Could it be...was she...?

"I'm not pregnant," she said with a chuckle. "So you can stop looking like a deer in the headlights." He relaxed. "Let's sit down," she suggested, and they sat down at his kitchen table to eat. It was delicious, and Reid greatly enjoyed it.

"I have something for you," he said suddenly. He pulled a box out of his pocket. He looked up at Paige. Her face was a mixture of horrified and pleased. "Um, it's not an engagement ring," he clarified. Paige took a deep breath, and then nodded. He slid the box across the table to her. She picked it up and opened the lid, revealing a key to his apartment, attached to a custom-made diamond key chain. She picked it up carefully, almost reverently.

"Spencer," she breathed. "The key to your apartment?" Reid nodded, glad that she was so pleased. "Oh my God, the key chain is so beautiful! You shouldn't have."

"I'm given to understand that when someone says 'you shouldn't have' they really mean that they feel undeserving of the gift and therefore the person receiving the gift finds it to be of value to them." She smiled at him.

"Yes," she said. "I find it to be of value." She got up and walked around to his chair. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed the back of his neck. "Thank you," she murmured into his hair.

"You're welcome," he said shyly. She sat back down and resumed eating her dinner. He was pleased to note that her eyes kept darting to the little box beside her plate. She really did like her gift. He was so relieved. It had taken him a long time to pick it out. He wanted her to have the best. He leaned back in his chair and just looked at her, almost forgetting his dinner entirely.

"What would you think about me getting a dog?" he asked her, suddenly. She looked at him quizzically.

"To me that sounds random," she said. "But I know you're just thinking much faster than I am." He smiled at her very accurate assumption.

"Well, I've always wanted a dog, but I've never been able to have one because of my job. Now that I have you and you have a key...I thought maybe when I'm away you could take care of it." Paige smiled, but then the smile faded and her eyes slid down to her plate. Reid felt a little alarmed at her sudden change of mood.

"That reminds me of what I need to talk to you about," she said. "My internship is ending in a couple weeks." Reid's stomach twisted.

"What does that mean?" he asked. "I mean...for us?" She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, a sign of stress that he hadn't seen very often.

"Unless I find a job...I don't have the money to keep living here. I've been living on the stipend from the newspaper. I can't afford my apartment once the internship is over." Reid's mind was racing, grasping at ways to make her stay.

"We'll find you a job," he said, trying to sound confident but thought he sounded desperate. "And you can live here." She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes.

"That's not the only problem," she said quietly. "My mother called me today. I haven't seen my family since Christmas and they want me to come home...permanently." Reid swallowed around the lump in his throat. She was looking at him, trying to see what he was feeling. He wondered if she could see the anxiety coursing through him.

"Can your parents...control you like that?" he asked. "They can't make you stay," he said feeling angry all of a sudden. Why would they take her away from him? She was very nearly all he had.

"My plan is to visit them for a while, long enough for them to get sick of me and then break it to them that I want to live in Washington. Then I'll come back and be with you." She attempted to smile and Reid knew she was trying to comfort him. He took a deep breath and tried to control his swirling emotions and racing mind.

"No one could get sick of you," he said, trying to smile back. "At least...I know I couldn't." He took another slow breath. "What if I took a week off?" he asked. "I could go with you to Maine, meet your parents, show them that you're happy and then take you back with me. What do you think?" Paige hesitated, obviously thinking hard.

"Actually...that sounds like it might work," she said, and for the first time he could see hope in her face. "My parents always were pressuring me to find a man and settle down," she said and her smile was real this time. "Who could be better than a handsome successful FBI agent? They'll love you." Reid felt calmer now that he had a plan.

"Are you sure Hotch will let you take a week off?" she asked, concerned. "He was very adamant that I not interfere with your work. This would be a major interference." Reid set his jaw.

"Who cares?" he said resolutely. "I'll deal with Hotch." Paige looked at him askance.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked. "You're not usually this...aggressive." Reid tried to put his feelings into words. All he knew was that he couldn't lose her and would do anything to keep her. Before he could phrase it, she interrupted him. "I like it," she said and when he looked up he saw that she was surveying him from under her eyelashes. He felt a flash of heat through his body as he could tell what was on her mind.

"Um, the dishes," he said. "Shouldn't we clean up?" He looked over the table and over by the sink, where all the dishes were piled up from cooking. However, one look at Paige told him that this wouldn't be negotiable.

"We can wash them in the morning," she said. She got up from her seat and started walking towards his bedroom, shedding clothes as she went. He watched her walk, unable to help himself.

However, as he followed her he couldn't help but think that they hadn't really finished their conversation. He guessed that their talk, like the dishes, would have to be taken care of in the morning.

"But they'll be harder to clean in the..." his voice trailed off as she poked her head back around the corner, the naked curve of her hip visible. She raised her eyebrows and he stood up, loosening his tie as he walked towards her. "Never mind," he said and she smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Paige's POV

After a bout of incredible sex, Spencer and I lay in bed. We were both naked, thinly covered with a white sheet. The lights were off and I could only see by the moonlight that streamed in through the open window. The summer night was hot and humid, a typical Virginia summer night. There was a breeze rustling the curtains and the sound of crickets drifted in.

The moonlight made everything in the room look silver, even Spencer who was lying next to me. His eyes were closed, and I couldn't tell if he was sleeping or just resting his eyes. I was curled up against him, my head resting on his chest, and I could hear his heartbeat like a soothing distant song. I looked down at our bodies that were twisted up together. We both carried scars that shone like glowing jagged lines in the moonlight. I winced, remembering how I got my scars, and how he got most of his. I ran a finger softly over the raised scar that ran across his chest.

_I was back in the room, the one the man kept me in, the man I only knew as what he told me to call him, Master. It was completely dark and smelled like rotting flesh and filth. It had been hours since I'd seen light or a person. I'd long since given up hope of leaving this room alive. Movement was painful from all the injuries Master had given me, and the ones he'd forced me to give myself. _

_The door opened in the ceiling and quick light steps started down the stairs. I was instantly alert. Master's steps were heavy and slow. Who was this? I pressed my back against the damp wall and waited. _

"_Paige Stewart?" he asked quietly. He sounded young and nervous. I shifted, trying to see him in the dim light. I could tell he was studying me. He had an unusually perceptive gaze. _

"_Who are you?" I asked. _

_"My name is Spencer Reid, I'm a special agent for the FBI. I'm going to get you out of here." My hope flared like a struck match, but I didn't move or say anything. This could be a trick, another way for Master to lull me into complacency before he destroyed me even further. He'd been hinting that something was going to happen, something that he would enjoy immensely and I would not. Could this be it? _

_He approached me and knelt down, inspecting the rope that tied my wrists together. I wished that he would remove it. The rope was cutting into my already torn skin. I could barely see it under the blood. He took out a knife and fear gripped me. Knives were now what I associated with pain and suffering. I saw a shadow over the young man's shoulder and I stiffened, my whole body responding with panic to Master's form. _

_"I'm not going to hurt you," said the young man. "I'm going to cut the ropes on your hands and ankles, then I'm going to get you out of here." I tried to speak, to tell him, but Master had a gun to the back of his head. _

"_Drop the knife," said Master. The young man's eyes darted back and forth, he was obviously thinking hard. _

_"I'm here for Paige," he said. "I have no interest in arresting you, I just want to bring Paige somewhere safe. Just let us go, and I won't tell anyone about you. I'll say I found her somewhere..."_

"_Shut up," said Master. "Get over there." Master shoved the FBI agent in a corner furthest from the stairs. Master turned on the light and I blinked as my eyes burned from the intensity I wasn't used to. Master cut the ropes tying my wrists together and I almost cried from the relief and fresh pain from the scabs that were ripped off with the ropes. "Pick up the knife," said Master, and I complied, knowing that to disobey was to ask for more pain later. _

_"Paige, darling," said Master. "I want you to decorate Mister Cop here with his own blood. I want you to slice him up, anywhere you want. I want him to be colored red." I knew that Master had taught me how to cut with a knife to cause the most damage, and the most pain. So far, I'd only used the methods he'd taught me on myself. _

_I looked at the young man's face and for the first time I felt something other than pain and fear. He looked like a nice person, and he was looking at me with pity. I felt regret for what I knew I had to do. _

"_I'm sorry," I said softly, and I didn't know if he heard me or not before I slashed the knife across his chest, trying to cause as little damage as possible. _

"_Cut it deeper," said Master, and I raised the knife again and slashed once more in the same place, feeling the knife slice through more flesh. The young man closed his eyes and I could see he was trying to escape from the pain. God knew I'd tried the same thing at first. Maybe it would work for him for a while..._

I snapped back to reality as Spencer rolled over so that he was facing me, our chests pressed together. He opened his eyes and I realized he hadn't been sleeping at all.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked. My finger stopped running over his scar and I blinked, remembering where I was.

"Do you like my hair better red or brown?" I asked. My hair had been red when we'd met the first time, and brown by the time we'd met again after my arrival in Washington for my internship. He furrowed his brow, looking into my eyes.

"That's not what you were thinking about," he said. "You were thinking about...the abduction." We had never really talked about it. I knew he didn't want to remind me about the attack I hadn't fully recovered from. It was a painful memory for both of us, the torture I'd been forced to inflict on him. I bit my bottom lip, not sure what to say. I didn't want to ruin an otherwise very good night with memories of when I'd been the victim of the case he was working.

He seemed to sense that I didn't want to talk about it and pulled me close, resting his chin on the top of my head. We lay there for a couple moments and I knew that he was sheltering me with his arms, trying to tell me without saying a word that he would always protect me, no matter what. I lifted my head and starting rubbing my cheek against his like a cat, startling a laugh out of him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I like it when you have stubble on your face at the end of the day," I said. "It feels nice against my skin." He obligingly rubbed his chin across the sensitive skin of my neck and shoulders, making me squirm and giggle at the sensation. After a few minutes of fooling around we settled down. I was starting to drift off, lulled to sleep by the sound of his breathing. I was just on the edge of dreamland, when he spoke.

"You've never told me anything about your family," he said. I knew what he was thinking about.

"I could say the same about you," I mumbled, then repented. "What do you want to know?"

"Are you close with your parents? Do you have brothers and sisters?" I sighed.

"My family and I used to be weirdly happy, like a TV family or something. They were so proud of me for going to college and pursuing my career. After the...abduction everything changed." Spencer's arms tightened around me. "My mother kept asking all kinds of questions, wanting to know everything that happened to me. She couldn't understand that I couldn't talk about it, least of all with her. My father started avoiding me completely. He couldn't look at me. I don't know if he felt guilty about not being there to protect me or just didn't want to think about what had happened to me...but he couldn't bear to be in the same room. My older brother didn't even come home for Christmas. My little sister just looks at me with this disgusted look on her face, like it's all my fault." I didn't mean to, but a tear slid down my cheek. Spencer wiped it away tenderly with his thumb.

"That sounds awful," he said comfortingly. "I've seen families break apart like that before. Unfortunately it's a common occurrence. The stress just fractures relationships." I nodded.

"I understand why...I just can't stand being around it," I said. "It was a big part of the reason I applied for internships this summer." We lay in silence for a few moments.

"You know," I said after a moment, "You never talk about your family either. I think you've mentioned your mother once, and just because I referenced something she'd read to you." I watched guilt and sadness flit across his features and I was sorry I'd asked. "Never mind," I said. "You don't have to tell me." He quirked his lips in a small smile.

"My mother...my mother is a paranoid schizophrenic. My father left us when I was very young, so she raised me by herself. When I was eighteen I had her committed to a sanitarium near where we lived in Las Vegas. She still lives there." He looked away, and I could tell he felt guilty, even now. I wrapped my arms around his waist and nuzzled my head into his chest, trying to comfort him with my presence.

"How often do you contact her?" I asked.

"I write her a letter every day," he told me. I blinked with surprise.

"Every day?" I echoed. I'd never seen him writing these letters. He nodded confirmation. "Do you...tell her about me?" I asked. He looked embarrassed.

"I tell her everything," he said. "Well...almost everything." I giggled.

"It would be a little weird if you told her _everything_," I said. He smiled. "Someday," I said, "and only if you want, I'd like to meet her. She must be a special person to have raised such a wonderful son." His smile looked more ironic than sincere.

"I guess you could say that," he said. "It was more like the other way around. She couldn't even remember to eat if she wasn't on her medication." I felt foolish. His childhood had never really been a childhood at all.

"I always wondered why you were so mature at such a young age," I said. "I thought maybe it was just because you're so brilliant...but now I know." I snorted. "You know, most people our age are more concerned about getting drunk and having sex with strangers than anything else? I'm glad I found someone who actually has priorities."

"Even if my priorities are a bit skewed?" he asked. I stroked his face and smiled.

"They aren't skewed to me," I said. He seemed to relax a bit. I noticed that each time I stroked his face his eyes closed involuntarily. I smiled. "Someone's falling asleep," I accused. He murmured something, his long eyelashes brushing his cheeks. I looked at him for a long moment, memorizing his face as he was falling asleep. He was so sweet and innocent looking.

"I love you Spencer," I said. His eyes fluttered open.

"I love you too, Paige," he said, then he fell asleep. I lay awake a bit longer, my head resting on his chest. I wondered how after having such a difficult childhood, someone so brilliant and socially awkward could have turned out so well. If things hadn't turned out the way they did, he may have been one of the people the BAU chased, instead of being in the unit. This thought disturbed me, and I tried to think about something else.

The next morning I woke up early, and saw Spencer was still fast asleep. It was his day off, and I decided to let him sleep. I got up, put on a robe and went quietly to the kitchen. I filled the coffeemaker and turned it on, knowing that eventually the smell would tempt Spencer from bed. He was even more of a coffee addict than me, and that was saying something.

I turned on the radio quietly and started singing softly to myself as I filled the sink with hot soapy water. I wanted to try and finish the dishes before Spencer woke up. He shouldn't worry whether or not the kitchen was clean on his day off. He had enough to worry about, like serial killers.

Spencer had been right about the dishes. The food had dried to the plates, making them very difficult to clean. I didn't really care, the music and the warm water were relaxing and I was enjoying the peace of it.

I had been scrubbing and singing for almost an hour when I heard footsteps coming from the bedroom. I turned and saw Spencer, barefooted and shirtless, wearing only sweatpants. His hair was all mussed and he was rubbing his eyes. He looked so cute.

"Coffee?" he mumbled. I chuckled.

"It's in the pot, babe," I said. He pulled a mug from the cupboard and poured himself a cup. He took a long sip and then looked up, confused.

"The kitchen's clean," he said, sounding surprised.

"Yep," I said. "So now we have the rest of the day to do whatever we want." I put an arm around him and slid my hand up his bare chest. He put his mug down and caught my roving hand with his, pulling it around his neck and pulling me against him.

"I didn't know you could sing," he said. I blushed.

"Only when there's no one else around," I said. I've always been self-conscious of my singing voice.

"Well it sounds pretty," he said. I smiled. "You're not wearing anything under your bathrobe," he informed me. I laughed.

"True," I admitted. "What are you gonna do about it?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Reid's POV

Almost a week later, the BAU was boarding the jet, flying back from a case. It had been difficult to stomach, like most of their cases. The unsub had targeted women through a dating website, and forced his victims to be his girlfriends for a week before he killed them. Reid boarded the plane with his go-bag. He was the last to enter the passenger area, and he was unsure of where to sit.

Making a last minute decision, he sat in the empty seat across from Hotch, the nearest person to him. Rossi was also sitting by himself on the other side of the plane, reading a book. Prentiss, Morgan, and JJ were sitting together, having a conversation. Reid wanted to join them, but he needed to talk to Hotch first.

"Hey Hotch," he said nervously, "Can I ask you something?" Hotch looked up from the report he was writing, his expression impossible to read. He said nothing, and Reid took that as a signal to continue. "I need some vacation time," he said. "A week long, two weeks from now." Hotch raised an eyebrow.

"You've never asked for vacation time before," he said. "Not that it's my business, but what are your plans?"

"Well, um," stammered Reid. "Paige is visiting her family in Maine, and I suggested I go with her." Hotch looked intently at Reid, his eyes not moving from his face.

"Okay," said Hotch. His face seemed to soften. "You know, Reid, you should ask for vacation time more often."

"Um, thank you," said Reid, confused. He got up and joined the trio at the back of the plane. He smiled to himself, thinking that they were like the kids that sat at the back of the bus in grade school. He took a seat, earning him a smile from JJ.

"Well I can sort of understand those women," Prentiss was saying. "It seems like there are no good men around. It makes sense that they would look online."

"What do you mean?" asked Morgan, pretending to be shocked. "I'm sitting right here." Prentiss scoffed.

"I said _good_ men, Morgan," she said. Morgan put a hand over his heart.

"That hurt Prentiss," he said dramatically. "That cut me real deep." Prentiss and JJ laughed, and Reid smiled.

"Well at least JJ snatched up a man," said Prentiss. "How are things with Will since you guys had a baby?" JJ smiled.

"Well we're both exhausted all the time," said JJ. "Between work and taking care of Henry, it seems like we don't get to spend much time alone. I can't remember the last time we went on a real date."

"Jeez tell me about it," said Prentiss. "I haven't been on a date in forever! What about you Morgan?" Morgan shrugged.

"It's been awhile," he admitted. Everyone stared. He looked around at the disbelieving faces. "Oh, c'mon," he said exasperatedly. "I could go on a date if I wanted to. I just haven't met anyone I liked lately," he said. Reid noticed that Morgan was deliberately not looking at him. Did Morgan's lack of dates have something to do with him? Or was it that Morgan still liked Paige?

"What about you Reid?" asked JJ. "How are you and Paige doing?" Reid smiled.

"We're doing great," he said, unable to hide his pride. "We might be moving in together soon."

"Wow, that's a big step," commented Prentiss. "Are you sure you two are ready for that?" Reid shrugged.

"We're practically living together now," he said. "So it wouldn't be that big of a change." JJ shook her head.

"Moving in together is different," she said. "You get to see all the little things about each other that you didn't know. Living with someone is a real test of a relationship. You guys haven't been together that long...why the sudden decision?" Reid tried not to resent JJ questioning his motives. He knew she meant well and that she cared about him.

"Her internship is ending," he said. "She's going to find a new job, but in the meantime she's going to stay with me."

"Oh yeah, her internship," said Prentiss. "I think I saw a couple of her articles in the paper. They're pretty good. Maybe the paper will beg her to stay and keep her on full time." Reid shrugged.

"She's a good journalist," he said. "I'm sure she can get a job anywhere she wants. It's convincing her that she can that's the problem."

"Hey, JJ," said Morgan, "Weren't you looking for an assistant Press Liaison? You were telling me the other day that you were thinking of having someone else deal with the press while you focus on finding us more cases? You were saying it would mean you could spend more time at home. Maybe Paige could do that." Reid felt a flare of annoyance. What gave Morgan the right to interfere on Paige's behalf? JJ seemed to think about it.

"She'd be good at writing press releases," she said, thinking out loud. "She'd have to be trained extensively of course..."

"I don't think it's a good idea," said Reid. Everyone looked at him.

"Why not?" asked Morgan. He seemed defensive.

"For a few reasons," said Reid. "I wouldn't want JJ to feel obligated to hire her because she's my girlfriend. Hotch has already complained once because she's affected work. He may not want her to be in the unit. And also she'd have to go on cases with us, and I don't think she could handle it. She's still not completely recovered from her abduction."

"She's not?" asked Prentiss, looking concerned.

"She has nightmares sometimes," Reid admitted. "Our cases are dangerous. I don't want her to be in arm's reach of the people we have to work with. I care about her, I want her to be safe. " Everyone around nodded, except for Morgan, who just shrugged. Reid's temper, which was usually well hidden and slow to spark, flared.

"You shouldn't make suggestions for her," he said. "If she wanted to get a job here she would."

"Hey Reid, I'm sorry," said Morgan, exasperatedly. "I wasn't trying to..."

"Just drop it," said Reid. Prentiss and JJ looked at each other, obviously shocked.

To Reid's relief, the conversation moved on to other topics. He didn't understand Morgan's problem. The only explanation he could think of was that Morgan still cared about Paige, and he didn't want to think about that very much.

When Paige had first arrived in Washington, she'd gone to the same party as Morgan by coincidence, and they'd left together. Reid didn't know the details, but he did know that they'd kissed at least once, and that Morgan had asked her to give him a chance if things didn't work out between Paige and Reid. Both agents hadn't been able to have a civil conversation for a couple days, before Hotch had told them both to stop seeing Paige, or lose their jobs. Fortunately, Paige had gone to Hotch and bargained for her right to see Reid, showing who she preferred.

Eventually the passengers lapsed into silence. Prentiss joined Rossi in reading a book. Morgan put his headphones on and stared out the window like he usually did. JJ came over and sat by Reid.

"Hey," she said. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah," he said, surprised. "Everything's great. Why do you ask?"

"You were a bit harsh earlier with Morgan." Reid shrugged and said nothing. "Are you still jealous?" she asked.

"No, I just don't think he should interfere for Paige."

"He was trying to help," she said soothingly. "It's not like you to jump down his throat like that."

"I know," said Reid, swiping a hand over his eyes. "I don't know why I did that."

"Jealousy makes us do strange things," said JJ. "Maybe you should apologize."

"I will," he said. _Eventually_, he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Paige's POV

About a week after Spencer got back from his case, he surprised me one night by suggesting we do something..._social_.

"A birthday party?" I asked, delighted. "For who?"

"For Marcus Duncan," he replied. "The BAU rescued his daughter a few years ago, and he's stayed a friend of the unit. He's invited all of us. It will be a pretty fancy party. He's one of the richest men in the city, and I'm pretty sure he invites everyone he can think of across the country." I wanted to jump up and down and clap my hands in delight.

In the over two months that Spencer and I had been together we barely left the house. Don't get me wrong, I was very okay with having almost unlimited access to a bedroom with him in it, but I was starting to wonder if he ever left the house to do anything other than errands. I was happy that I was finally going to get the chance to show him off in the city.

"What should I wear?" I asked. Spencer shrugged.

"I'm wearing a suit," he said. "I have no idea what women should wear."

"I'll talk to JJ," I said. "She'll know. When is it?"

"The party? Oh, its tonight."

"Tonight?" My heart almost stopped. "Are you kidding? That gives me almost no time to prepare!"

"Prepare?" he asked, confused. I slapped a hand to my forehead.

"Can I use your phone to get JJ's number?" I asked. He handed it to me and I dialed.

She and I talked for a while about the party. She was excited because she found someone to watch Henry so she and Will could go together. She told me that it was formal dress, and gave me a general idea of just how fancy this party was going to be. I liked JJ. She was very nice to me and to Spencer. The only complaint I had was that whenever she saw me she tended to give me the 'Don't you dare hurt him' look.

We were about to hang up after talking for almost fifteen minutes, when JJ stopped me.

"So did Spence tell you about the job opening?" she asked. I looked over at Spencer, who was doing paperwork at the kitchen table, out of hearing range.

"Um, no," I said. "What job opening?"

"Well I'm looking for someone to deal with the press while I deal with choosing the cases. It would make it so I could be home for Henry more often and both jobs can be done with more efficiency. Spencer mentioned you were looking for a job, and Morgan suggested you'd be a good candidate since you currently work for the press." I was speechless.

"You're right," I said. "It sounds perfect...like way beyond perfect but..." I looked over at Spencer. What would he say?

"I have to tell you," said JJ, "Spence was pretty against it. He said that you weren't over the attack yet and that maybe the job would bring back your nightmares..." My skin went cold.

"He...he told you guys about my nightmares?" I asked. That was personal.

"Yeah. He also said that it was too dangerous and he didn't want you around...well...the people we have to be around."

"I see," I said, not really able to see. Why hadn't he told me about the job? Why had he told the whole unit about my nightmares?

"Okay, well, think about the job offer and I'll see you at the party," said JJ. I couldn't even exchange pleasantries.

"See ya," I said like an automaton, and hung up. My emotions were battling each other like middle eastern countries. I was very angry with Spencer, but I wondered if he just didn't know better. He was used to sharing everything with his team, maybe he just didn't realize that I didn't want to do the same.

However the sting of hearing about the job from JJ and not Spencer, the embarrassment of the entire unit knowing about my nightmares and the stress about the party overwhelmed me. I walked quickly into the kitchen and grabbed my shoulder bag before heading for the door.

"Hey," said Spencer, getting up from his seat at the kitchen table. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going home," I said snappily. "I need to get ready." He caught my wrist as I reached the door and spun me around to face him. His eyes searched my face like he was looking for clues.

"Something's wrong," he said softly. "Tell me," he implored. His eyes were big as he looked at me. I sighed.

"I- I can't talk about it right now," I said, avoiding his gaze. "I really do need to go home and get ready. I'll meet you at the party?" He let go of my wrist and nodded, silent. I hated making him suffer, like I knew he would, wondering what he'd done to upset me. I just couldn't face his wide eyes right now.

I took a cab home. I showered and blow dried my hair straight. I got dressed in a nice black dress and heels. I wore a little black shrug to cover the scars on my shoulders and back. Normally the process of getting dressed up made me happy and confident. This time I felt numb as I did my makeup in the mirror. I was hurt and Spencer was the cause. This had never happened before. What should I do?

Eventually I was ready. I was already fifteen minutes late to the party, but I figured it was better to be fashionably late than on time. I hailed a cab and it took me there. I was feeling better as I walked up the stairs to the big mansion. Maybe if we just talked about it, things would be okay. I was overreacting. I loved Spencer. I took a deep breath and smiled as I reached the door. I almost laughed. There was a hefty man with a clipboard at the entrance.

"Name?" he asked.

"Paige Stewart," I replied. "I'm here with Dr. Spencer Reid." He ran a sausage-like finger down the paper.

"Go ahead in," he said. "Dr. Reid let us know to expect you." I was touched by his thoughtfulness. I walked in the door and was surprised by the sheer amount of people in the very large room. It was like something out of a movie, complete with high ceilings and chandeliers. The people mingling around me all looked like they belonged here. I stuck out like a woman in a gay bar. I made my way through the room. It took some time because it was so crowded. I scanned the crowd for a familiar face and saw none.

Not knowing what else to do, I walked into the next room. There was music and dancing along with food and drink. I looked around and spotted Morgan and Garcia chatting together on the far side of the room. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least I knew them. I walked around the dance floor and went up to them.

"Hey Paige," said Garcia happily. "This is some party huh?" I looked around at the dancers and the waiters in tuxedos handing out champagne like candy on Halloween.

"Sure is," I agreed.

"Where's Reid?" she asked, looking over my shoulder.

"He's here somewhere," I said. "I don't know where."

"Didn't you guys come together?" asked Derek, leaning nonchalantly against the wall. He looked very good in a tight black suit with no tie.

"I told him I'd meet him here," I said. "He didn't tell me about the party until a couple hours ago. I had to go to my place and get ready." They both chuckled.

"Sounds like Reid," said Derek. "How have you been?" he asked me. The three of us chatted casually for a while. I asked Garcia how her relationship with Steve was going, and Derek told me that he'd read my articles in the newspaper. Garcia was regaling me with a story about how she'd almost gotten Prince William's phone number when I spotted Spencer across the room.

I was about to excuse myself and go over to him, when a beautiful blonde followed him in. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him, full on the mouth. I stood watching, my mouth hanging open in shock.

Derek and Garcia followed my gaze. Garcia gasped out loud.

"Is that?" she asked.

"It's Lila," said Derek, sounding shocked. "What is she doing here?" I said nothing and watched as after a very _very_ long moment, Spencer gently pushed her away. He said something and they both laughed. I didn't feel very much like laughing.

"Who is she?" I finally managed. Derek put a hand on my shoulder. I wasn't sure if it was to comfort me or restrain me.

"She's an actress that Reid had a relationship with a couple years back," said Derek. "She was a victim in a stalker case and he saved her." My chest tightened. He saved her too?

"She's..." I swallowed, my mouth dry. "She's beautiful." Derek moved around me so that he was facing me.

"You're beautiful," he said soothingly, looking into my eyes. I looked away after a moment. I looked around him at Spencer, who was still talking to the blonde. She leaned forward, playing with a lock of his hair. Her body was practically touching his. Spencer did nothing to move away. I bit my bottom lip.

"She's just an old friend," said Derek. "Don't worry about it." A waiter walked by and offered us drinks. I took two and downed them in quick succession. "Whoa, slow down," said Derek. "What are you trying to do get drunk so you can go over there and confront her?" I shook my head, still dizzy from the sudden rush of alcohol.

"No," I said. "I'm trying to _not_ go over there." I took a deep breath. "I need some air," I said. Derek gently took my hand and steered me outside. We brushed by the blonde and Spencer on the way out of the room. I tried not to look, but I don't think Spencer even noticed us go by. Finally we made it outside. I leaned against the house, breathing slowly.

"Are you okay?" asked Derek, sounding concerned.

"I'm fine," I said. "I'm sorry I pulled you away from the party." Derek waved that away.

"It was too stuffy anyway," he said, showing a small smile. I tried to smile back.

"I talked to JJ today," I said. He looked at me, confused. "She offered me a job. She told me you recommended me." He sighed and ran a hand over his shaved head.

"Yeah, I did," he said. "But your boyfriend didn't think it was a good idea." I nodded.

"She told me that too. She also said...that Spencer told you...that I..."

"That you have nightmares," he finished for me. I nodded. "That's nothing to be ashamed of," he said. "What you went through..." I interrupted.

"I'm not ashamed," I said. "I just didn't want the whole BAU to know about it. It was...you know...personal." Derek looked at his shoes. He was about to say something, when the door opened and the blonde ex-girlfriend walked out. She stopped and lit a cigarette. I took a step toward her and Derek grabbed my wrist.

"Don't go over there," he said. "I don't want to have to arrest you." I shrugged off his hand.

"I just want to talk to her," I said. "And you can't arrest me if you don't see anything," I reminded him.

"Maybe you should use this opportunity to talk to Reid," he suggested. I thought about it. It was a good idea. However the sight of that blonde made my blood boil.

"Good idea," I said calmly. "Do you think you could find him for me?" He looked at me for a long moment, assessing me. He wasn't stupid, so he knew that as soon as he walked away I was going to confront her...but he was also on my side. He sighed, gave me a look that said, _I hope you know what you're doing_ and went back inside. I took a deep breath, and walked up to her.

"Hi," I said. I was surprised at my calmness.

"Um, hi," she said, taking a drag on her cigarette.

"I'm Paige," I said, trying to be friendly. Maybe this would be easy. "I'm Spencer Reid's girlfriend." She started to laugh, and then she saw my face.

"Really?" she asked. I nodded.

"We're in love," I told her. "So I know you'll do the right thing and leave him alone." She smiled, and for a moment I thought she was going to follow my advice. Then she ruined it.

"You may be in love," she said. "But we've been sleeping together on and off for two years. I'm not gonna just walk away."

"Well I guess we'll just have to see who he goes home with then," I said. She shrugged.

"Yeah I guess we will." I turned around and started to walk back into the party. The little shrug I was wearing over my dress to hide the scars on my back was falling out of place, so I pulled it straight. I heard a giggle behind me, so I looked over my shoulder. Lila, or whatever her name was, watching me and laughing.

"Do you have something you want to say?" I asked. She giggled some more.

"I'm just wondering if Spencer has seen under your clothes," she said between giggles. "Because you look like a jigsaw puzzle...or Frankenstein or something." At that moment something snapped inside me. That bitch was gonna eat her words. I stepped out of my heels, put down my purse and started taking out my earrings.

"Ooh," said Lila. "You're taking out your earrings, I'm so scared." I said nothing, just gently placed my earrings in one of my shoes and walked back so I was standing in front of her. She looked down at me. She was at least four inches taller than me. I didn't care. She dropped her cigarette and rubbed it out with her shoe.

"I was given these scars by a serial killer," I informed her. "I've lived through things you can't even imagine. I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of anything. So just take back what you said about my scars, go home, stay away from Spencer, and we won't have a problem." She crossed her arms and tilted her head, looking at me.

"I don't think so," she said.

"Your choice," I said. I reached up and grabbed her long blonde hair pulling her head down and driving my knee into the soft part of her stomach. She gasped, the air completely knocked out of her. "That's for kissing Spencer," I said. I turned my body, my knee still wedged up in her stomach and threw her down by her hair onto the ground. She hit the ground with a satisfying thud.

"And this," I said, punching her hard in the right eye, "is for making fun of my scars. And this," I continued, punching her other eye, "is for not taking it back." I stood up straight, breathing heavily from adrenaline. Lila started to cry, rolling on the ground. I wanted to feel pity for her, and yet I didn't. I turned to get my shoes, and saw Derek and Spencer standing in the doorway, their mouths hanging open.

I put my earrings back on, stepped back into my heels and swept a hand through my hair, putting it back into place. I straightened my dress, picked up my purse and walked away.

"Wait," called Spencer. He ran and caught up with me. "Where are you going?"

"Home," I said. "Unless you're going to arrest me." He sighed.

"I'm not going to arrest you Paige," he said exasperatedly. "I just want to talk to you."

"Actions speak louder than words," I said. "I saw you with Lila. I don't know what else you have to say."

"If I could just explain," he said. I shook my head.

"Can you explain about the job offer you forgot to tell me about or the fact that you told the whole unit that I have nightmares sometimes? Because I'm interested about that as well." He took a step back and stuttered, his face confused. He was speechless, and I was impatient. "I didn't think so," I said and turned to walk away.

"Paige," he said, his voice laced with pain. "Please hear me out."

"I need a ride home," I said. Derek took out his keys.

"I'll drive you," he said.

"I'll call a cab," I said. "If I could borrow your phone?"

"Why don't I drive you and we can talk about this?" asked Spencer. Tears filled my eyes at the pain in his voice. He pulled me into his arms. "Please, Paige," he begged. "Let's go home." My heart ached. I opened my mouth to tell him yes, to forgive him, to forget the whole thing. I couldn't help it. He was just so adorable, and I couldn't stand hurting him.

Just then, Lila stood up, wiping the blood from her nose that I didn't realize I'd caused.

"Spencer," she said, whimpering. "I think I need a hospital." Spencer's arms dropped, he turned away from me.

"Are you okay?" he asked her. She started sobbing theatrically.

"It hurts," she whined. "Something might be broken." He took a step towards her. I felt like I'd been slapped in the face. All my forgiveness evaporated like it had never been. The fact that he turned his back on me right now made me want to scream in anger and frustration. Derek and I made eye contact, and he walked over to his car. He held the door open. I gave in, and walked over to Derek's Aston Martin. Spencer, who was currently helping Lila stand, saw me leaving and tried to call after me, but I was beyond listening.

I didn't say a word the whole ride back to my apartment. I couldn't believe it had only been a couple hours since I'd left to go to the party. It felt like lifetimes had passed. Derek pulled up to the curb by my apartment building and cut the engine.

"You know," he said. "Normally I have to turn on pay-per-view to watch two girls fight like that." I turned and looked at him, shocked. "I guess what I'm trying to say is...That was hot." I laughed and buried my face in my hands.

"I shouldn't have done it," I said into my hands.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" he asked.

"My older brother taught me," I said. "He got in a lot of fights as a teenager." Derek nodded, but I could tell that wasn't really what was on his mind. He sighed.

"What are you gonna do?" he asked. I buried my hands in my hair.

"I don't know," I said honestly. He reached over and patted my knee.

"If you need anything...a shoulder to cry on, recreational sex, takeout...don't hesitate to call me." I rolled my eyes.

"Thanks Derek," I said. "I'll keep that in mind." I got out of the car and walked up the steps to my apartment. I unlocked the door, closed and locked it behind me. I sank to the floor, my back pressed against the door, and started to cry. I only indulged in tears for a few minutes before I made myself, get up and dry my tears. I picked up the phone.

"Hello, Dulles National Airport? Yes I need a one-way ticket to Portland, Maine."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Morgan's POV

Derek Morgan entered his house and tossed his keys into the dish by the door. He slid off his suit jacket and hung it up in the closet. He pulled a beer from the fridge and took a long drink. Today had been a very eventful and weird day. It hadn't just been the party either, although watching Paige beat the crap out of Lila had been a treat he hadn't expected. He also had a feeling that Reid and Paige were going to be on the rocks for a little while, and this made him happy in a twisted way.

His feelings for Paige hadn't gone away when she and Reid had finally gotten together. He knew his desire was probably just amplified by the fact that she was unattainable. He'd taken psychology, he knew that people always wanted what they couldn't have.

However, no matter how much he tried to explain it to himself the feelings just didn't go away. Every time Reid mentioned how happy he and Paige were together, every time he read one of Paige's articles in the paper, every time he saw her his heart ached.

He'd tried to make light of it when he'd driven her home. He'd meant for his offer of sex to be a joke, and for the most part it had been. Even though he thought he was in love with her, he couldn't do that to his best friend. However he was pretty sure Paige had seen right through him.

He remembered Paige telling him about how she could read faces. Had she read his? Could she tell how he felt about her? Too late, he remembered how he'd assured Paige how beautiful she was when she saw Lila. He'd said it a little too passionately for it to be casual flattery. He hoped she'd been too distracted at the time to notice. He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. He really should stop profiling himself. It would just drive him crazy.

He flopped onto his couch. This morning had been really strange. On his way to work he'd been almost sure that a car was following him. It had been a small blue sedan, and it had stayed practically glued to his bumper all the way until he turned into the FBI building parking lot. The only thing that hadn't made him report it was that the car had been driven by a young woman. It was probably just a coincidence.

However, he hadn't been able to shake the feeling that he was being watched all day. Every time he left the BAU it was like he had a permanent case of the shivers. Not to mention that, just for a moment, he thought that he'd seen that same girl at the party. She looked very familiar. Had he dated her at some point? The whole thing made him feel dazed, like everything was surreal. He looked down at his beer bottle, wishing it was something stronger. After a day like today, he needed a good scotch. He settled for another beer.

He weighed the pros and cons of going back out and walking down the street to the bar. On the plus side, maybe he'd relax and shake the paranoia that had been haunting him. On the down side he didn't want to get drunk and bring a woman home. In a weird way he felt like it would be disloyal. That was one of the reasons he hadn't been dating lately. Between the depression of being in unrequited love and his weird loyalty to Paige, he hadn't been to the bar in almost two months.

He chastised himself for being pathetic. Maybe a new woman was just what he needed to get over this slump. He looked down at himself and decided he was dressed all right. After a few minutes he was walking down to the bar, conveniently located just down the street. It was a good thing too, because he'd already had a couple beers, and driving wasn't a safe option.

He hadn't made it there yet, when he was tapped on the shoulder. He turned to see a beautiful woman, dressed to kill. She looked embarrassed.

"Hi," she said. "Can you help me? I dropped my cell phone under someone's car and I'm wearing a skirt...and I would be flashing the whole street if I tried to get it. Would you mind?" Morgan smiled. That had been too easy.

"Sure," he said. "Which car is it?" She showed him, and he squatted down on the ground, trying not to get his pants dirty from the gritty street. He peered underneath the car, squinting trying to see the cell phone in the dark. He couldn't see anything. "Are you sure it's under here?" he asked.

"I'm sure," she said. At that moment something struck him on the back of the head, blinding him with pain. He hit the ground hard, the rough cement scratching his face. He groaned, trying to get up. His hand automatically went to his waistband, searching for a gun that wasn't there. He'd taken it off to go to the bar, since a gun usually scared the women off.

He heard the car door open and someone was dragging him by the back of his shirt. He tried to get his footing, and succeeded for a moment before a sharp shoe kicked the back of his knees making him fall into the open door of the car. He turned his aching head, opening his mouth to yell, when he was hit on the back of his head again. His vision tunneled, and though he struggled against it, unconsciousness overtook him.

He woke up after what seemed like a long time, but he couldn't tell how long he'd been out. His head felt heavy and his eyes couldn't focus. There was a light on somewhere, but it hurt his eyes. He rolled his head away from the light unable to lift it completely. He couldn't move, and from his limited viewpoint he could tell that he was chained to a chair. He tried to remember what happened, but his brain felt fuzzy. He could think enough to realize he'd been drugged, but beyond that...

He heard footsteps, and he struggled to see the person who was walking up to him. The footsteps were sharp, like high heels. The woman bent down so she could see into his face.

"Hey darling," she said soothingly. "How are you feeling?" He tried to speak and it came out more of a low groan. "Ssh," she said, her hand cupping his cheek. "It's all-right," she said. "We're together now. No one can separate us, not your job, not your friends, and not that girl Paige either."

Paige's name triggered something in his brain. She was important. She was important to him. Did this woman hurt her? He struggled weakly against his chains, but they bound him tightly.

"Ssh," she said again. "Hush now." He felt a cool wet glass at his lips, and he realized that he was thirsty. He drank the water in large gulps, soothing his parched throat. Almost immediately he felt the strong urge to sleep. He tried to keep his eyes open. "Go to sleep,baby," she said softly. "Everything will be okay."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Paige's POV

It had been a long day. I dropped my bags at my feet and looked around my old room. It was filled with relics of my past. Framed pictures of my high school friends, posters from my favorite movies, and newspaper articles from my favorite journalists covered the walls. My bed was freshly made with my old pink flowery sheets. It was a sign that my mother was excited to have me home.

The day had really started the night before. I hadn't been able to sleep, so I had packed up my entire apartment into boxes. It really hadn't been that much work since I hadn't had that much stuff in the first place. The furniture belonged to the landlord, so after a few hours my apartment was exactly the way I'd found it. In the morning I'd called a self-storage place and arranged to keep my stuff there except for the things I was taking with me to Maine.

The plane ride had been uneventful but heart-wrenching. I almost didn't get on the plane because it meant I'd be leaving Spencer behind, and that felt wrong. In the end though, the memory of him helping Lila up steered me onto the plane. It was just a week. I was coming back, it wasn't like I was leaving forever. However, now that I was thinking about it, a week felt a hell of a lot like forever.

My parents had been very surprised to see me. I couldn't blame them since I had told them I would be there for at least a week more. My mother had been overjoyed, dropping the basket of laundry she'd been holding unceremoniously and gathering me into her arms. My father had been more subdued, taking the time to dry his hands with a dishcloth before giving me a short hug.

"Paige!" my mother was practically yelling. "Paige you're home!" I laughed, my eyes misting a little in happiness.

"Yes, yes Mum. I'm home." My little sister had wandered into the room, hearing the commotion. She saw that it was me and stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed, surveying the scene like a princess who smelled something distasteful. After watching Dad hug me she sniffed and disappeared back the way she'd come, her bright red hair swishing behind her like a representation of her disapproval. I tried to write it off to typical teenager behavior. Had I been that much of a bitch?

My mom insisted on making me food right then. She started cooking while my dad went outside to pay the cab driver and bring in my bags. I barely had time to take off my coat before she was setting a plate in front of me. I smiled down at the plate of scrambled eggs and toast. No wonder I'd been over weight in high school. She started telling me all about what my older brother Will was up to. He'd found a job working for the government doing something with forestry that I didn't understand. He was looking for his own place but couldn't quite afford it yet, so he was still living at home. Regardless, my parents never saw him. My mom swore that he only came home to sleep after everyone had gone to bed, and would leave before they woke in the morning. She didn't have much to say about my sister, probably because she had no idea what she was up to.

My mother continued to chatter at me, not letting me get a word in. She asked me how my internship had gone before telling me about how she'd subscribed to the newspaper and had all my articles taped to the wall in her office. She asked how Spencer was doing before telling me how glad she was that I'd found someone. I didn't even get to answer her questions.

My father watched me eat, then put my dishes in the sink and disappeared from the room. He'd barely spoken a word to me since my abduction. Before that I was his favorite, the one who would go with him to the store when he had errands to run and would grab him a beer while he was watching the game before sitting down to watch. He and I used to be so close...I missed talking to him.

The rest of the day was a blur. This moment in my room was the first quiet I'd had since walking in the door. I unpacked my clothes, placing them all with care in the bureau I'd had since babyhood with the white paint flaking off and the drawers misaligned. I plugged in my cell phone, which had died on the flight. I took a refreshing shower in my personal bathroom joined to my bedroom, and changed into my softest pajamas. Sleep took me as soon as I hit the bed. I was so physically and emotionally exhausted that I didn't even dream.

Spencer's POV

He'd given her the night and most of the day to cool off. He hoped that she would be willing to at least talk to him today. Last night had been so frustrating, not being able to explain himself. He just needed to hold her in his arms and tell her she was the only person in the world that he had ever loved like this, and that she was the only woman in his life. He just had to tell her how much he loved her, and maybe all this would go away. He knew it was never that simple, especially with Paige, but he was going to try anyway.

He'd decided to buy her a gift. He'd considered flowers, but they were so cliché. Paige deserved something unique, and wonderful, just like her. So he'd gone to a tiny gift shop just outside town. They always had things there you couldn't find anywhere else. He'd picked something out and had it wrapped. He carried it under his arm as he went up the steps to her apartment. He'd tried calling, but her phone was off, so he was going to try and talk to her in person.

He knocked on the door to the building. After a while her landlord appeared, disapproval written all over his face.

"You can't come in without permission from a resident," he said, his jowls shaking with each word. Spencer cleared his throat nervously.

"I'm here to see Paige Stewart," he said. The landlord narrowed his eyes.

"She packed up and moved out first thing this morning," he said. "She is no longer a resident." Spencer blinked at him in shock.

"She moved out?" he asked. "Where did she go?" The landlord shrugged.

"All I know is she's not coming back here." With that he turned and stomped away, letting the door swing closed in Spencer's stunned face. He contemplated what could be going on as he walked slowly down the steps. He tried to think of where she would go if she was upset and uncertain. It used to be she would go to him. Uncharacteristically, he swore and kicked blindly at a curb, sending a shot of pain up his leg. He swore, loudly, again at the pain, scaring a tiny old lady walking her tinier dog.

"I'm – I'm sorry," he stuttered. The lady just looked fearfully at him and walked faster. He though he heard her murmur something about 'crazy young people.' Taking a deep breath, he raked a hand through his hair and closed his eyes. What should he do?

After a moment he decided to go talk to Morgan. Morgan had been though it all with women, and Reid had never had to apologize to one before, at least not a woman who held his heart in her hands. He needed to grovel, he knew that, but he didn't know how. And he needed to know where she was and if she was okay. He was going crazy imagining the pain she was going through. How could she think that Lila was any sort of competition? She made Lila look like shiny trash.

He drove to Morgan's house, doubting his decision the entire time. If Morgan had feelings for Paige like he suspected, talking to him about this might be a bad idea in so many different ways. However, he had to concede that Morgan's experience with women was far superior to his own, and any insights he had would be very helpful.

He sighed as he pulled in behind Morgan's beautiful Aston Martin. That car made his little white sedan look like a kitten next to a cheetah. He'd always wondered how Morgan could afford it. The BAU paid well, but not that well. In any case, it meant Morgan was home. As he walked down the street to Morgan's apartment he noticed a stain on the ground. He paused and looked at it. It was funny, the stain looked an awful lot like blood. Had somebody been mugged here? He looked around and saw no other signs of a struggle, so he shrugged and continued on.

The door to Morgan's apartment was unlocked.

"Hello?" Spencer called, stepping into the room. "Morgan?" He had a bad feeling. Whenever he'd visited Morgan before, the apartment had felt full of vitality, Morgan's vitality to be exact. However now, the apartment felt conspicuously empty. He wished he'd brought his gun. His intuition rarely failed him. He stepped further into the room and scanned it, remembering details. The closet door was left open, indicating he'd left in a hurry. His keys were still in the bowl by the door, which meant he'd planned on walking wherever he was going.

Suddenly Spencer's eyes fell on a piece of paper on the coffee table in the center of the room. He walked over and picked it up with slightly quivering hands. The front of it had "To the BAU" written on it, in handwriting that was definitely not Morgan's. He unfolded it and read it, his mind racing.

_To the BAU: _

_Derek and I have decided that we cannot stay apart any longer. Our love is too strong to stay one moment away from each other. _

_We have gone away together and we aren't coming back. Don't bother looking for us._

It was unsigned. Spencer's mind was racing. His first thought was that there was a connection between Paige's disappearance and Morgan's, but this wasn't Paige's handwriting. This was bad. His mind was flipping through possible scenarios like a projector. The only thing that was certain was that he had two huge questions. Where was Paige? And where was Morgan?


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Paige's POV (Earlier that morning)

I slept in really late the next day. When I woke up I felt like I had completely left the world I had been living in behind and I had somehow traveled back in time to high school when I still lived with my parents. I stumbled downstairs, dressed in a well-worn white t-shirt and soft black shorts and made my way to the kitchen, one word throbbing through the haze: coffee. I had pulled a mug from the cupboard and poured myself a cup, and taken a sip before I noticed that there was someone in the kitchen with me.

"Paige?" he asked. I looked at him carefully. My first impression was that he looked like Adam Brody. He seemed older than me by a couple years and he was vaguely familiar. It took a couple seconds to click where I'd seen him before.

"Grant?" I asked doubtfully. He beamed. "Oh my God!" I exclaimed. "How many years has it been?"

"I think around six or seven," he said. "I went to college and then you went to college..." I remembered a short, thin socially awkward teenager who had hung around with my brother since the two of them could walk. In grade school I had idolized my brother and had followed him and Grant around, wanting to do everything they did. I couldn't believe that the tall, built attractive man in front of me was the same person.

"Are you here looking for Alan?" I asked. He nodded.

"I won tickets to the baseball game on the radio this morning and I was gonna see if your brother would go see it with me. He's gotta work though, so either I go by myself or I find someone to go with me."

"Well good luck finding anyone around here that likes baseball," I said sarcastically. He laughed, then he looked at me, pensively.

"I seem to remember a certain little girl that used to go to all my little league games," he said. I dropped my eyes to my coffee in embarrassment.

"I really wanted to play," I admitted. "I loved watching you and Alan. It was almost as good." He smiled and I was reminded of the little boy he used to be.

"Would you like to go with me?" he asked. "We can catch up, reminisce about old times..." I thought about it. My plans for the day hadn't been formed beyond coffee. I probably would end up just sitting around the house thinking about Spencer. This was the best possible option.

"Yeah, sure," I said. "Let me go get dressed though." Grant laughed.

"Do you have to? I like you dressed like that." His flirtatious comment was the first time I remembered that no matter how many childhood memories we had, he was still a man...and an attractive one at that. As I headed up to my bedroom I wondered if this was a good idea. Maybe Grant was really angling to make this a date. I shrugged to myself as I changed. Grant was a nice guy. He would understand that I couldn't deal with anything other than a friendship.

I put on my favorite team jersey and jeans. I left my hair down and only put on the bare minimum for makeup. Today I was showing my tomboy side. I picked up my purse, and then put it back down. I had seen my cellphone on my bureau, with four missed calls. They were all from Spencer. I sighed and closed my eyes, not sure how to proceed. I thought about calling him back, but I was pretty sure I would collapse into a puddle of tears. I wondered. How could I let Spencer know I was okay and where I was without actually talking to him? It took a second to hit me. Garcia.

I dialed her number completely from memory. The amount of times I'd called her just to chat and to try and get a hint as to when Spencer would be home from his case was astounding. It only rang once before she picked up.

"Paige?" she asked. "Girl, where are you?"

"I'm in Maine at my parents' house," I said. "Why am I missed?" Garcia scoffed.

"Honey, Reid has called me twice asking if I've heard from you. He's freaking out." I sighed and rubbed a hand over my eyes, holding back tears.

"Can you tell him where I am?" I asked. "Tell him...that I just need some time and then I'll be back?"

"That sounds like something you should tell him yourself," she said. I knew she was right, but I couldn't bring myself to talk to him.

"I can't," I said. "Please, Garcia?" She sighed.

"Okay," she said. "But you owe me some girl time when you get back." I giggled through my tears.

"Of course," I said. "You got it."

"I gotta go," she said. "My superheroes need me. I wish we could talk because you sound like you need it. You okay?" I took a deep breath.

"Yeah I'll be fine. I just need a few days." I desperately willed my words to be true. We said goodbye and I stowed my phone in my purse before I headed downstairs. Grant was waiting for me. He held up a to-go mug.

"I packed you some coffee," he said, a big smile on his face. I smiled back, but he could tell I was upset. "What's wrong?" he asked. I sniffed and wiped my eyes, trying not to smudge whatever makeup was left.

"I didn't just come home to see my family," I admitted. "The relationship I'm in...is having a few bumps." Grant patted me on the shoulder.

"All relationships have bumps," he said like he was passing on a life lesson to a child. "You just have to get up, brush yourself off and keep going." I laughed.

"Shall we get going?" I asked. He handed me my coffee. I wrote my parents a quick note and off we went.

It took us almost three hours to drive to Boston because of the traffic. He spent the first hour coaxing the story out of me, and I spent the next two hours telling him everything, from the beginning. When we reached Fenway Park and found a parking space (finally), he turned off the car and looked at me.

"Are you telling me that this guy saved your life and exchanged letters with you for almost two years, and then you met up almost by chance and had a whirlwind romance that made both of you happier than you had ever been, and now because of one fight you ran away?" I winced.

"It sounds really stupid when you phrase it like that," I said.

"You love him, right?" he asked. I nodded. "He's so close to perfect you almost can't stand it. You said so yourself. So why when he gives the first sign of not being completely perfect you take off?"

"You're right," I said. "You're so right...Why am I so stupid?" I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. I opened them and turned my head so I was looking at Grant. "When did you get so wise?" I asked. He shrugged, his eyes downcast.

"Let's just say...you and your brother are two of a kind." His eyes jumped to mine, searching for a reaction. I stared at him, open-mouthed.

"You mean...you and my brother..." He nodded. "You're together?" I almost whispered. He nodded again. "Has he told our parents?" I asked. He shook his head.

"No. You're the first to know as far as our families go... Is that...okay?" I widened my eyes.

"Okay? God, Grant that's wonderful!" I leaned forward and hugged him. "How long have you been together?"

"It's almost been two years," he said. "Since I got back from school."

"Are you happy?" I asked. He nodded, an involuntary smile flitting across his face. I hugged him again. Then I giggled.

"What?" he asked. I giggled again.

"It's just that...this morning I was wondering if you were trying to get in my pants," I said, laughing. "I can't believe I'm so arrogant." He laughed a little too.

"Don't get me wrong, you're gorgeous," he said. "You're just not my type." We got out of the car and walked into the stadium, his arm across my shoulders.

It was early evening by the time Grant and I made it back to my house. He walked me in. We were both wearing brand new Red Sox hats that we'd treated ourselves to after the win.

"Mom," I called. "I'm home!" I walked into the living room, looking for her. Grant followed a couple steps behind. I stopped dead in the doorway, and Grant ran into me. He had to put a hand on my waist to steady himself.

"Hi Paige," said Spencer. He was sitting on the couch, next to JJ, across from my parents. I opened my mouth, and had no idea what to say. Grant leaned down so his mouth was next to my ear.

"Oh my God," he whispered. "You weren't kidding. He's hot." I snorted with badly suppressed laughter. I took another step into the room, my eyes glued to Spencer's face.

"Spencer," I finally breathed. "You came to get me?" I looked confusedly around. "And you brought...JJ?" He cleared his throat.

"We aren't here as a social call," he said. His voice was different than I'd ever heard it. I realized with a jolt that he was using his FBI agent voice. "You are needed for questioning."

"Questioning?" I said, disbelieving. My eyes flicked from him to my parents and back. "Questioning for what? For beating up Lila?" My parents looked at me with raised eyebrows. I faintly heard Grant mumble something behind me.

"Wait," said my mother, finally catching on. "This is Spencer? Your boyfriend Spencer?"

"Doctor Reid," corrected JJ. "We're going to need to talk to you privately," she said to me. My father stood up.

"Is my daughter in some sort of trouble?" he asked. "Are you charging her with anything?"

"No," said JJ soothingly. "We just need to ask her some questions." Dad wasn't buying it.

"Well you can't question her without a lawyer present," he said. I felt a stab of love for him.

"It's okay Daddy," I said. "I know my rights. If for some reason I think I need a lawyer, I'll let you know." I looked back at Spencer, trying to keep my composure. "Why don't we talk up in my room?" I led the two agents up the stairs and down the hallway to my room. I let them in and closed the door behind them.

I watched Spencer look around my childhood room. I wondered if he was using what he saw to profile me.

"So what's going on?" I asked. "Ask your questions." I sat down on my bed, not inviting them to do the same. JJ sat down at my desk, and Spencer stood awkwardly between us. JJ took out a notepad and pen.

"Where were you on the night of August fifteenth?" she asked. I looked at Spencer in confusion and then at JJ.

"Well I went to a birthday party," I said. "I accompanied my boyfriend, a Dr. Spencer Reid, an agent of the FBI." JJ sighed.

"You don't need to be sarcastic Paige, this is important," said JJ. She cleared her throat. "Where did you go after that?" she asked.

"Well Derek drove me home," I said. "And I stayed there for the rest of the night. In the morning I left for Maine...and here I am." I couldn't look at Spencer.

"Did Agent Morgan spend the night?" asked JJ. I blinked.

"What?"

"Did Agent Morgan spend the night?" she repeated.

"No," I said incredulously. "He dropped me off. He didn't even walk me to the door." Suddenly it dawned on me. "Is he okay?" I asked. Both JJ and Spencer dropped their eyes.

"He's missing," said Spencer. His voice sounded broken. I fought the urge to run to him and throw my arms around him.

"Missing?" I said. "Since when?"

"Since the night of August fifteenth," said JJ. I sat back against the wall, absorbing her words.

"You think...you think I had something to do with it?" I asked JJ, but I was looking at Spencer. Spencer looked at JJ.

"No," she said. "His car was found at his home, so your story checks out. We can leave now." My mind boggled at the fact they'd flown all the way up the coast to ask me two questions. JJ stood up, and both she and Spencer went to exit the room.

"Wait," I said. "I want to go with you." Spencer stopped and turned around, his eyes searching mine.

"Why?" he asked softly. I shrugged.

"Because," I said. "I want to help. And...I need the chance to beg your forgiveness." Spencer looked at me for a long moment, then looked at JJ, then back at me.

"Have your bags packed in five minutes," he said. "We'll wait for you." Then he and JJ went downstairs.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey everyone, sorry it's taken me so long to update. I've been really busy lately and I was stuck in one particular spot that took me a while to write myself out of for some reason. **

**However this chapter is my St. Patrick's Day gift to you, and it's extra long, just the way you like it ;)**

**Reviews = love!,**

**tastybitsodp**

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Chapter 8: Paige's POV

In less than an hour we were on the jet. It had been a difficult process, explaining to my parents why I was leaving the day after I'd arrived. After a tearful farewell (on my mom's part), a silent hug from my dad, and a hug from Grant with a promise to give my love to my brother, who I hadn't even seen yet, I carried my bags out to the rental car that JJ and Spencer had used to get to my house.

The drive to the airport had been silent and tense.

I sat in a window seat on the jet, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. JJ sat across from me, and Spencer, surprisingly, sat next to me. The tension between the three of us was almost physically palatable. After a few minutes I couldn't take it and turned to Spencer.

"Babe, I just have to tell you..."

"Ssh," he interrupted, taking my hand. "Paige, I love you," he said. "That's going to have to be enough for now. I need to stay focused on the case...finding Morgan. Until then..." he leaned in and kissed me. He pulled away too soon for my taste, but I couldn't really kiss him the way I wanted to anyway, with JJ sitting right there.

"I understand," I said. "I want to find him too." For the first time I saw the fear in his eyes. He was worried about his best friend, and I was worried about him too. I wished that Spencer and JJ could fill me in about what they knew, but I knew that they had to keep everything within the team. I went over the last time I talked to Derek in my head. I smiled as I remembered his teasing offer to help me with anything I needed..._anything. _That made me think of something.

"You know," I said to Spencer, "I don't think he was planning on going anywhere." Spencer looked at me.

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"When he was dropping me off, he told me if there was anything I needed, food or someone to talk to, he would help. I know him, he wouldn't promise that if he was leaving town." Spencer nodded. I could tell his mind was a million light-years ahead of mine, thinking things I probably wouldn't even understand. JJ's eyes connected with mine, and I could tell she was thinking the same thing I was.

Twenty minutes later, I felt Spencer's hand go slack in mine and I tore my eyes away from the window to see Spencer falling asleep, his head lolling to the side. Gently, I guided his head until he was lying in my lap. I covered him with my blanket and absently ran my fingers through his long hair. It felt so natural, loving him. JJ cleared her throat, and I looked up at her to see she was watching us.

"You're good for him," she said quietly so she wouldn't wake him. I smiled down at him, hearing his quiet breathing.

"I hope so," I said, just as quietly.

"I've never seen him with someone as long as he's been with you," she said. "I've never seen him so happy." I looked at her steadily, waiting for the point I assumed she'd make any minute. "Don't screw it up," she said simply. I smiled.

"I don't intend to," I said.

Spencer's POV:

Reid tried to keep his mind purely on finding Morgan, but seeing Paige made him distracted. He had so many questions for her that would have to remain unanswered until Morgan was found. Why had she felt that she had to go to Maine without him? Who was that guy she had been with, the one who had put his hand on her waist and whispered in her ear? Then he chastised himself for feeling jealous. Hadn't it been him that had been friendly with Lila, only a couple days before?

He forced himself to think back to Morgan's house. Rossi and Prentiss were going over it, probably right at that moment, to try and differentiate between what in the house had been moved by Morgan and what had been moved by the unsub. The most obvious thing was the note, but they theorized that the unsub (they still hadn't determined if it was male or female or any variation in between) had moved things around, given his home a touch that was purely theirs.

They were profiling the unsub as a stalker, someone that Morgan had met, even briefly. The stalker had seen their interaction as a relationship, and had kidnapped him (_or killed him, the logical part of his mind insisted_), as punishment for not participating in the relationship and for resisting their attentions. The stalker most likely has narcissistic personality disorder, and therefore assumed that their actions had no consequences. The stalker assumed that the note left would be perfectly reasonable to them, and they wouldn't pursue. How wrong they were.

Reid knew it was only a matter of time before Morgan insulted or betrayed the unsub, no matter how well he played along. These stalkers were highly sensitive and anything, word choice or even a glance, could set them off, and once that happened, violence usually followed. It was possible that they had a criminal record. The stalker was also probably highly intelligent, yet unemployed and with a trail of failed relationships behind them. This was probably a person who had tried to contact Morgan almost incessantly in tiny ways, and if Morgan responded, even just picking up the phone when they called or saying hello to a person on the street, then they took that as a sign that he loved them too.

He was so tired. It had been well over twenty-four hours since he'd slept. He wondered if it would be okay with Paige if he just rested his head on her shoulder. That would be so comfortable...He tried to snap himself awake, but the moment he did his eyes fell shut again.

The next thing he knew he was very comfortable, and he could smell Paige's signature scent, a mixture of vanilla and cherry blossoms. He could feel her fingers running gently through his hair. For a moment he forgot that Morgan was missing and that they were on a case. For a sweet moment he forgot about Paige being angry with him and running away. All he could feel was her fingers in his hair, the warmth of her body as his head rested on it, and a deep profound happiness.

He could hear her speaking, and he listened because he didn't want to open his eyes or sit up just yet.

"So Spencer is his godfather?" she asked.

"Yes. He spoils Henry rotten, he and Garcia both do. I swear I haven't had to buy him a thing since he was born," said JJ. Both women laughed quietly.

"I've never seen him around kids," Paige was saying. "Whenever I mention them he gets this panicked look on his face."

"Yeah when Henry was born he was pretty freaked out," JJ recalled. "He's very good with him now though. Henry calls him Uncle Spence." Reid decided that he'd slept long enough.

"Are you two having fun?" he asked, sitting up and stretching. "Don't you have anything else to talk about?" Both women smiled guiltily. By default, his mind left the happiness that had occupied it moments before and refocused on the darkness that ate at his heart; Morgan's disappearance. "I need to call Garcia," he said, getting up and moving away for privacy. The slight feeling of merriment evaporated as if it had never been.

"This is Garcia," she said after the first ring. Spencer felt a pang at the worry and pain in her voice. She wasn't her usual cheerful, witty self.

"Hey Garcia its Reid, I have a partial profile I need you to take down." He told her everything he'd thought of from the information Paige had given him. "Can you pass that on to Hotch?"

"Sure," she said. He could tell she was devastated by Morgan's absence. He couldn't imagine what she was going through. He knew that she loved Morgan in almost the same way and depth that he loved Paige. Knowing that he was missing and in danger was too much to handle.

When they landed, Paige went directly into the BAU office like she belonged there. Baffled, Reid followed her in, wondering where she was going. He watched in amazement as she hurried up the stairs and turned the corner into Garcia's office. He caught a brief glimpse of Paige wrapping a sobbing Garcia in a hug before Paige kicked the door closed behind her. He was glad that Paige was here. Normally Morgan was the one that helped Garcia through the hard parts of the job, and now that he wasn't here…

Reid took a deep breath and followed JJ into the conference room. He hoped that the rest of the team had come closer to finding Morgan than they were before he left. As he entered the room he could tell that wasn't the case. The mood in the room was edgy and quiet. Every person there looked exhausted and yet determined. Hotch's eyes snapped to him when he walked in.

"Did Paige know anything we didn't," he asked in his direct way. Reid told the team about Morgan's promise to be there for Paige, and how it confirmed that Morgan hadn't been planning on running away with anyone. It wasn't particularly helpful information. They had already determined that themselves because of the state of Morgan's apartment.

"So far, I can only think of two scenarios," said Reid. "One would be that he was lured somewhere by a woman, possibly using a ruse like needing help, or that he was overpowered by a man."

"You're saying a woman wouldn't be able to overpower Morgan?" asked Prentiss. Reid shook his head.

"It's highly unlikely unless she used a weapon, and with Morgan's training he'd be able to see if she had a concealed weapon. No, it's much more likely that it's one of those two scenarios."

"Okay, let's work off of those," said Hotch, and the team got down to work.

Two hours later, they had created a list of all the people who could possibly want Morgan dead, from well-known serial killers to jealous boyfriends. They had also compiled a list of women that Morgan had been involved with. The list was long, and even Hotch raised his eyebrows when he saw it. They were going through the lists, eliminating the people that weren't in the area the night before. They were making many phone calls, and Garcia was working her fingers to the bone tracking down credit card receipts and addresses for each person.

It was another two hours before Reid remembered that Paige was still in the office. He excused himself to get some coffee and found Paige in the kitchen, snacking on a stray granola bar she had found. She smiled when she saw him, and the sight of her made him feel a little better.

"How's it going?" she asked him. Reid sighed in frustration.

"There isn't much to go on," he said. "I feel so…" His voice caught and he struggled to hold back tears. Paige wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled her face into his chest. He held her close to him, feeling her warmth and inhaling her scent, just absorbing the comfort she offered. She lifted her face for a kiss and he obliged. He could feel her desperation and her need to be close to him and it fueled the need inside him.

He backed her up until her back hit the kitchen counter and he lifted her so that she sat on it. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed even closer to him, her hands sliding up his neck and tangling themselves in his hair, tugging gently. He slipped his hands under her baseball jersey, his fingers skimming the soft skin of her stomach and tracing the contours of her waist. He wished they were somewhere private so that he could slide off her jeans and…

"Ahem," said a voice behind him. He untangled himself from her with difficulty, feeling like a hot coal that had been thrown out into the snow. Paige's cheeks were flushed, her breathing heavy. Prentiss looked from one to the other, her eyebrows raised. She sighed. "I understand," she said. Reid felt a flicker of relief that she understood the need for comfort at a time like this. "Hotch wants you back in the conference room," said Prentiss. "He wants your input on another possible scenario."

"I'll be there in a minute," he said. Prentiss nodded and left. Paige let out a slow breath. "I'm sorry," he said to her. "I let things get out of control." Paige shook her head.

"I needed that as much as you did," she said. "I just wish we hadn't been interrupted." Their eyes locked for a hot moment, but he looked away at the clock.

"Paige," he said exasperatedly. "It's almost four am. You need to sleep." She shook her head.

"I want to stay and help, in any way I can."

"No offense Paige," he said. "I can't really think of a way you could help. I would feel better if you got some sleep. I can bring you to my place." Paige stuck out her chin in defiance.

"Even if the only thing I can do to help is make coffee," she said. "I'm going to do it. Derek is my friend too and I'm not just going to sleep until he is found." Reid felt a flare of love for her.

"Okay," he conceded. "But if you need some sleep there is a couch in Morgan's office you can curl up on." Paige nodded and smiled.

"Thank you," she said. "It means a lot that you would let me stay." She turned and started taking mugs out of the cupboard. "I'll be there in a minute with coffee."


	9. Chapter 9

**I was so inspired that I wrote two chapters in as many days! Can't wait to continue this, it's like a suspenseful movie in my head!**

**Tastybitsodp**

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Chapter 9 Paige's POV

I didn't end up sleeping at all that night. I made coffee, I paced the office, and I worried. I didn't tell Spencer, but I was feeling pretty guilty about Morgan. If I had just asked him to stay, maybe talked with him for a while, _something_, then maybe he would be safe now. If I hadn't asked him to drive me home when I did, maybe he'd be at home now, sleeping, or maybe he'd be here in the office, working on paperwork. I felt guilty that the team had been forced to make the trip all the way to Maine to find me in order to ask me a few simple questions. In other words, I was a wreck.

When the team finally emerged from the office, around eight in the morning, I winced at the sight of their wrinkled clothes they were still wearing from the day before, their bloodshot eyes and their blank expressions. I wandered into Garcia's office to find her slumped over her keyboard, asleep.

"Garcia," I said softly. "Garcia, wake up," she sat up abruptly, her glasses crooked on her nose and her pigtails uneven.

"What is it?" she asked desperation in her voice. "Did we find him?" Pity surged through me.

"Not yet, hun," I said soothingly. "The team is going to take a few hours to sleep and refresh. You should do the same." She shook her head violently, her hands immediately finding the keyboard and typing furiously.

"I can't, not until I find him." I knew how she felt.

"You won't be on the top of your game unless you go home, get a couple hours of sleep and take a shower," I said. "And you need to be at the top of your game to find your man. What would Derek say to you if he were here?" Her lower lip quivered, her eyes filling up with tears.

"He would say, 'Baby Girl," she said in a shaky voice. "Baby Girl you need your beauty sleep so I have something sexy to look at while we work." She sighed and swiped at her eyes. "I guess you're right," she said to me. "Just a couple hours of sleep, then I'm not resting until he's safe."

"Okay," I agreed, wondering secretly if we would find him safe. Garcia and I walked back into the main lobby to see Spencer and two black-suited serious-looking FBI agents waiting for us.

"Garcia," said Spencer, "This is Ross. He's going to escort you home. Ross is going to check your house when you get there to make sure it's safe." He cast a meaningful glance at the young, but still older than him, agent standing next to him. Ross nodded obediently. He led Garcia away while she asked him if Ross was his first or last name.

The other agent, whom Spencer called Baudler, was to escort both Spencer and I to Spencer's apartment. I must have fallen asleep on the drive there, because the next thing I remember is Spencer gently lifting me out of the car and carrying me into the apartment. I slept harder than I can ever remember. It was almost like I was comatose. When I finally woke it was the middle of the afternoon. I rolled over to see that Spencer was gone. I wondered how he could function, constantly sleep-deprived, with such a high-stress job. Then I remembered that he'd told me once that I was one of his coping mechanisms.

I made myself get out of bed, took a shower, and then fixed myself some breakfast out of the sparse leavings of Spencer's refrigerator. I felt restless and useless. Part of me wanted to go back to the BAU and hang around, but the other part realized the truth in what Spencer had said to me the night before. There really wasn't anything I could do to help.

Then I wondered the last time that the unit had eaten. I'd seen them eat candy bars, simply to make it for another couple hours, but I hadn't seen them eat a full meal. I decided that I was going to get them some quality food. I called a local restaurant and ordered six full meals to-go, guessing on what people wanted, except for Spencer's. I knew his favorite foods. I put on shoes and called a cab, wishing that I had my own car. It would make life so much easier.

Before long I was carrying the high stack of to-go boxes into the BAU. As had become the norm, I found the team in the conference room, pouring over papers and throwing out ideas.

"Hi, everyone," I said as I walked in. "I come bearing lunch."

"Paige Stewart you are amazing," said Prentiss, reaching for the top box.

"Oh, no," I said. "That one's for Hotch." I set down the stack and handed out the boxes, based on what I'd guessed they would like. Hotch opened his box, and then looked up at me.

"How did you know I like salmon?" he asked, surprised. I shrugged. One by one the team members opened their boxes. I'd gotten a salad with grilled chicken for Rossi, a burger and fries for Prentiss, a chicken sandwich and bowl of soup for Garcia, along with a big slice of chocolate cake just for her, spaghetti and meatballs for JJ and of course, a juicy steak for Spencer.

"Wow," said Rossi jokingly, looking over at Spencer's meal. "I guess we know who her favorite is." The rest of the team shared an awkward chuckle. "I'm just kidding," said Rossi. "You got my favorite lunch. Thanks Paige." The rest of the team murmured their thanks through full mouths. I guess it really had been a long time since they'd eaten.

Spencer patted the empty chair next to him, and I sat, grateful to be around him and to have been a help, even in a small way. He captured my chin with a cupped hand and gave me a quick kiss.

"Thanks Paige," he said, his face lingering close to mine. I smiled, trying not to show how rattled I was by that show of affection in front of the team.

"Anytime," I said sincerely. A glance around the table showed that everyone was pretending to not have noticed, but I could see by JJ's and Prentiss's small smiles that they'd seen.

Just then, a man came to the door.

"Excuse me," he said. "There's a man here who says he has a delivery for a Ms. Paige Stewart." The rest of the team looked at me in confusion, but I was even more baffled than they were.

"I'm not expecting anything," I told them. Hotch's brow furrowed.

"Send him in," he said, "but search him thoroughly." Once that was done, the driver of the cab I'd taken was shown into the room. He told the team that a man had given him the note and paid him twenty dollars to take it to the last person he'd dropped off. I unfolded the paper and read out loud to the anxiously waiting team.

_Come to your old apartment by midnight, or Derek Morgan will die. _

_Come alone or Derek Morgan will die. _

_Give yourself up or Derek Morgan will die. _

_Do the math._

It was unsigned. I looked up at the team. Spencer's face had gone white, and the expressions of the rest of them were stony. Hotch turned to the agent who had escorted the cabbie in.

"Bring that cab driver in to a sketch artist to get a composite sketch. Rossi, I want you to perform a cognitive interview to get any information you can about the unsub from him. Reid, I want you to examine that letter and draw any conclusions you can. Prentiss, I want you to inform the police they may be at Paige's old apartment. I want surveillance on it as soon as possible."

The team sprang into action. I could feel the excitement coming off of some of the agents. They'd finally gotten a lead. Maybe this was the break they needed to find Morgan. I stood motionless, still holding the note. Reid was staring at me, and our eyes met. I had never seen him so upset.

"No," he said simply.

"What if it's the only choice?" I asked. He shook his head.

"No. You are not going into a situation that dangerous."

"It's my choice, Spencer. If there's even a small chance it will save Derek then I have to do it. If Derek dies…" Spencer took a step forward, plucked the note from my hand and walked from the room with quick angry steps, his shoulders hunched and tense. JJ and Hotch were watching me. I wiped a tear from my cheek.

"What do you think?" I asked Hotch. He sighed.

"It would only be a last resort," he said with finality and turned back to the board they were using to organize their evidence. For the first time, I looked at it too. I read the possible scenarios and looked at pictures of people they had determined to be the most likely suspects. As my eyes swept over the board I got the feeling that there was something missing.

_Do the math_, my brain whispered. Silently I walked up to the board, picked up a marker and drew a plus sign between the first scenario and the second. Hotch looked at me.

"Why did you do that?" he asked.

"It makes sense," I said. "You profiled that the unsub was either a woman or a man, with different motives. What if it was both?" Hotch remained silent so I continued. "What if they were a team? The woman stalked him and then lured him into a dangerous situation, and then the man took him down. The cab driver said a man gave him the note. I must have been stalked in order for them to know where I was and who had brought me there, the man did that. They stalk as a team. The woman wanted Morgan and the man wants me." I shivered, feeling violated.

"If that were the case then they wouldn't be willing to trade Morgan for Paige, they'd simply take Paige and keep them both," said JJ to Hotch. Hotch was still looking at me, assessing me.

"You know," he said. "You really would make a good addition to the team." I opened my mouth in shock. Hotch turned away and pressed a button on the phone in the middle of the conference room table. Garcia answered immediately.

"Garcia I need you to look at our two lists again. I need you to find any connection between any two people on those lists, do you understand?"

"Got it," said Garcia. "It's going to take a minute," she said. "These are long lists. I'll get back to you as soon as I know." She hung up. Just then Spencer came back into the room, the note in his gloved hand.

"I think there are two unsubs," he said, then stopped midstride seeing the plus sign I'd drawn on the board. "You figured that out already," he said in amazement.

"Paige did," said Hotch. Spencer looked at me, confused. "She noticed the contradictions in the profile. It wouldn't make sense unless you split the profile into two people." Spencer nodded.

"The wording in the two notes is different," he said, tacking the newest note to the board. "The first one was very personal and talked about her and Derek spending their lives together. It was almost certainly written by a woman. The second note threatened to kill him unless Paige gave herself up. The first note was written by someone in a delusional state thinking that she and Morgan were in love and going to spend their lives together, when in reality she was already in a very unhappy relationship with the male unsub, who is actually the psychopath. They strike up a deal; she gets to keep Morgan if she helps him find a new woman."

"Which is me," I said quietly. Spencer looked at me, horrified. I could tell that he had forgotten I was there and that the situation applied to me while he was profiling. Hotch followed his look.

"Paige, why don't you go stay in my office," suggested Hotch. "Your insights have been very helpful, but I think it will just upset you if you stay here." I wanted to argue, to tell them I could handle it and that I was tougher than I looked, but deep down I knew he was right. I didn't go to Hotch's office though, I went to Derek's.

I curled up on his couch and closed my eyes, trying to make myself relax. So what if there was a serial killer after me? I'd survived the experience once before. I remembered how even though it had been Spencer that had found me; it had been Derek that saved both our lives.

"_Do it!" said my torturer; his eyes alight with sick pleasure. "Cut his wrists!"_

"_No!" I said through my sobs. I was kneeling next to Spencer, knife in hand. I had been forced to torture him for almost an hour now and I wasn't going to kill this young man who had tried to save me, even though he had failed. I knew Master was holding a gun to the back of my head, and that if I didn't do what he said he might kill me. I welcomed death, hoping to escape the pain. _

"_Slit his wrists!" said Master, angrier now. "Do it or I'll shoot you, worthless bitch!" _

"_Go ahead," said Spencer. "I don't mind. I don't want him to shoot you." I couldn't do it, even with his encouragement. It made it worse somehow. I heard the click of a gun being cocked, and I braced myself to be shot, wondering if it would hurt a lot to die. _

"_Reid," said a different man's voice. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't blast his brains out right now." I turned to see a tall dark-skinned man with a gun to the back of Master's head. "Drop the gun," he said, and Master dropped it. Spencer shrugged. _

"_He didn't kill me yet," he said. "Personally I'd consider it a favor if you killed him. What do you think Paige?" He looked at me and I thought back to every excruciating moment I'd endured since being taken. He gently took the knife from me and tossed it away. He took one of my hands in his, and with the other he cupped my chin and looked into my eyes. "Paige," he asked. "Do you want us to kill him?" _

"_How many others?" I asked. The two men looked at each other. _

"_Four," Spencer answered. I nodded, thinking. I thought back to the bed of nails Master had shown me when I'd first arrived, telling me how some night I was going to sleep there. I saw his sick pleasure as I was forced to slice open my own skin. I nodded again, certain this time. _

"_Go ahead," I said quietly, and closed my eyes. A gunshot rang out in the tiny room and I opened my eyes again to watch Master crumple to the ground. Blood splattered across the wall next to me. The dark skinned man still held the gun, looking down at Master's dead body with contempt, and a hint of regret. It was over…it was finally over. _

I snapped back to reality. I owed Morgan my life. _Do the math_, the note had said. Suddenly, I realized what that meant. Each number was a life. I had saved none, while Derek had saved countless. Derek had saved my life. I was in his debt. My life ending would only amount to one life ended. If Derek was saved, then he would save countless more. I suddenly knew what I had to do.

I walked out of the office, surprisingly easily. No one tried to stop me. Anyone from the BAU was in the conference room or somewhere else out of sight. I walked out, feeling like each step was a mistake, but I didn't turn back. I had done the math, and the answer was -1.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 Reid's POV

Reid sat at the conference table, papers spread out in front of him. He took a sip of coffee and realized that it was past lukewarm and was nearing cold. He looked down at it and considered getting a new cup. However, it would be a shame to waste the caffeine. He looked around at the rest of the team, minus Prentiss, who was currently running surveillance on Paige's old apartment. No one was looking. He chugged the rest of the cup and stood up to get another. JJ looked at him with tired, bloodshot eyes.

"Spence can you get me a cup?" she asked. He took her mug and nodded. She looked as tired as he felt. It had been almost three days and no one had gotten more than a few hours of sleep. He knew that if they didn't find Morgan soon, the team would be run into the ground and then it was likely that they would be too late.

He wandered into the kitchen, put down the mugs and lifted the coffee pot to fill them. It was strangely light and he looked at it in confusion. It was empty, for the first time in days. Paige had been diligently filling it, and now it was empty. He guessed that she was upset by the letter, and probably blaming herself by now. One of the things he loved about her but that drove him crazy was that she constantly took on other people's problems as her own to fix, including his own. He reset the coffee-maker and turned it on. While it was brewing he decided to spend a few minutes with Paige, just to comfort her. He knew he'd acted insensitively before, and he wanted to make it up to her. He looked in Hotch's office and found it empty, nothing disturbed. Confused, he checked Morgan's office. She'd obviously been there. A rumpled blanket lay on the couch and a half-cup of coffee sat on the edge of Morgan's desk. However, she wasn't there. Panic rose in his chest like bile. Where had she gone?

He hurried out of the room, trying not to sprint, and found the security guard by the front office.

"Excuse me," he said to the short, dark-skinned man. "Did you see a girl with brown hair wearing a green shirt walk through here?" The man nodded.

"Pretty little thing. She looked upset though." Reid wanted to shout at him, demand why he would let her leave, but he realized how futile that would be. Without a word he turned and ran back into the BAU section his phone already on his ear.

"Prentiss," he barked his voice tight with anxiety. "Is she there?"

"I'm assuming you mean Paige and no she's not," said Prentiss. "We've got all the entrances covered she wouldn't be able to get past us. I'll call you if I see her." Without needing to speak further, Reid hung up. He dialed his home number and waited as the phone rang and rang. No one picked up. By then he'd made it to the conference room. The team looked up at his approach.

"What's wrong?" said Hotch instantly. Reid could barely speak, his adrenaline setting was on extra-high and his heart was pounding furiously.

"Paige," he gasped. "She's gone. I called Prentiss and my place…she's not there."

"I know this is difficult," said Rossi. "But stop thinking like her boyfriend and start thinking like a profiler. Where would she have gone?" Reid took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His mind worked quickly, jumping from thought to thought like a tornado.

"She's going after Morgan," he said.

"But Prentiss said she's not at her old apartment," said JJ anxiously.

"Think about it," said Reid. "Why would the unsub send us a note telling us where he is. He's smarter than that. It must have been a clue, telling Paige where to really go."

"Where did she really go?" asked Hotch. Reid bowed his head, staring at his shoes as he thought some more. The team was silent, used to Reid's thought process by now. He looked up suddenly, his eyes connecting with Hotch's.

"They're at Morgan's apartment," he said. "The way the note kept repeating 'Derek Morgan' over and over again…it was a clue. The unsub wasn't focused on Morgan he was focused on her, so he wouldn't pay so much attention to him. He was giving her a message."

"Do you think Paige understood it?" asked JJ. Reid took a deep breath.

"Yes," he said. "I think she got it." He also knew, but didn't tell the team, that Paige's profile said that she would try to sacrifice herself for Morgan, believing the whole situation was her fault. She didn't intend to come back alive. He felt like he'd been stabbed in the stomach. Hotch must have seen what he was thinking, somehow, like he always did, because he crossed the room to put a hand on Reid's shoulder and look into his face.

"Maybe you should wait here," he said quietly. Rage made Reid's body white hot. He fought the urge to punch his boss.

"No way in hell," he said through clenched teeth. Hotch nodded, satisfied and hurried out of the room, with the rest of the team on his heels.

"JJ, call the SWAT team so they can meet us there. Rossi call Garcia and let her know what's going on. Reid…" he turned and looked at him for just a moment. "Do you have your gun?" he asked. Reid patted the weapon on his hip. "You're going to need it," said Hotch.

Paige's POV

I walked up to the door of Derik's apartment. The Crime Scene tape was torn and the door was slightly ajar. This convinced me I was in the right place. Up until then I hadn't been sure that I had interpreted the note correctly. I sent up a silent prayer and took a deep breath to calm my nerves. My hands were shaking, but I braced them against the door and pushed it open as quietly as possible.

The room was dark; the thin beam from the hallway the only source of light. I slowly stepped into the room, my hands outstretched in front of me, trying to prevent myself from bumping into anything. Finally, I found a light switch, and flicked it on. What I saw made my heart jump into my throat. Derik was tied to a chair on the far side of the room, his back to the door to the kitchen. I rushed over to him. He was awake and seemed well; I couldn't see any injuries aside from a rather nasty bump on the back of his head. I removed the blindfold from his eyes and then the gag from his mouth.

"Paige," he whispered his eyes tender and hard at the same time. "Get out of here. It's not safe. Leave, now!" I circled to the back of the chair and started trying to undo the knot in the rope.

"No," I said, also whispering. "I'm not leaving here without you." Just then, I heard the clunk-click of a gun being cocked.

"Get away from him," a cold female voice hissed. "He's not yours anymore he's mine! And you can't take him from me!" Very, very slowly I turned to face her, my mind racing. I considered telling her that he never was mine, and neither was he hers, but something told me that playing along with her delusion would work better than confronting it. I put my hands up and slowly straightened, so that we were face to face. She was a scant two feet from me, with a very large caliber pistol. If she were to shoot me, she would shoot Derik too, and I didn't think she realized it.

"Maybe we could talk about this," I said, as calmly as I could. "I could arrange it so that you can spend as much time with him as you want, away from your husband." Her eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed with hostility.

"That's going to happen anyway," she said. "Once Darren has you he's going to let us go. Derik and I will lead our lives together, away from you two." My stomach clenched at the thought. This guy had obviously messed this girl up pretty badly.

"Do you really think that's going to happen?" I asked. "In all the time that you and Darren have been together, has he always kept his promises?" Her eyes darted away from me for a moment, and then back to me.

"No," she admitted hesitantly.

"What about Derik?" I asked. "You've had to tie him up to get him to stay. How do you know that he won't run away from you once you leave together, or that he'll beat you like Darren does?" I was going out on a limb and I knew it, but it seemed to be having an effect on her. She was thinking about what I was saying, and I silently prayed that she would agree and let us go. Her gun lowered a fraction of an inch. I saw my chance.

My hand snapped forward and grabbed the barrel of the gun, pushing it away and toward the ground. She pulled the trigger too late, and the bullet blasted a hole in the floor. Keeping my hold on the gun, I punched her as hard as I could in the jaw. Her head snapped back, and then she lunged at me. I twisted and we landed on the ground, both grappling for control of the gun. I got a hold on her hair with my other hand and yanked viciously. She screamed and her grip loosened. I pushed the gun with the barrel pointing into her chest and squeezed her finger which was still on the trigger. The discharge thundered in my ears, and I almost vomited as a warm spray of blood sluiced across my face.

I rolled away from her body and sat up to a kneeling position, breathing hard.

"Paige?" said Derik, nervously. I realized that with his back to the fight, he didn't know who'd lived and who'd died.

"I'm here," I said breathlessly and he sighed in relief. With shaking fingers, I went back to trying to untie his hands. The sound of slow clapping startled me, and I turned toward the bedroom to see a man standing there, clapping for me. He was tall and roughly built, with tan skin and dark wavy hair. He smiled at me as I stood. He didn't look like what I'd expected him to, but I assumed this was Darren.

"Very good," he praised. "I thought you could probably take her, and I was right. She wasn't even a match for you." I was barely breathing. I looked at the girl's gun on the ground, where I'd carelessly left it. He chuckled. "Don't even try it, sweetheart," he said patronizingly. He pulled a gun from the holster on his waist and pointed it at Derik's chest. "You didn't come all this way just to see him die."

"No," I agreed, my voice shaking. "I didn't." I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans, but just managed to smear them with blood. "Is there any way I can convince you to let him go?" I took a step toward him, and Darren pointed the gun at me.

"Well there's the little problem of him seeing my face," he said calmly.

"So did the cab driver," I pointed out. "Just because he knows what you look like doesn't mean he can track you down if you get away. You can change your name and disappear." He seemed to think about this. Suddenly the sound of sirens cut through the silence.

"They know you're here," said Darren. "If you leave with me now, then we can leave him here to be picked up by his team."

"Why do you want me to leave with you?" I asked. "Why do you want me?"

"Well to be honest, you weren't my first choice," said Darren. "My original plan was to use Derik here to help me out. I needed a strong partner that was no stranger to killing. However, he's too noble for what I have planned. You however," he took a step forward and held my chin in his hand. "You have a dark side that hasn't even been touched. You have so much potential and you don't even realize it. I knew it when I was following Agent Morgan and got to watch you beat that blonde girl until her face broke. That was when I realized I wanted you instead, but Alison had already gotten her heart set on Derik." The sirens were getting louder. "Leave with me," he repeated, tenderly this time. "Imagine the life we could have."

I took a deep breath and looked at Morgan, who was shaking his head at me. I sighed. I hadn't really intended on leaving here alive, but this was one way to do it.

"Okay," I said.

"No!" said Derik, angrily. "Don't leave with him."

"I want to," I lied. I took Darren's hand. "Let's get out of here," I said. He smiled and opened his mouth to speak. I heard the breaking of glass and the smack of a bullet hitting flesh. I watched, seemingly in slow motion as Darren let go of my hand and touched his head. He looked at his fingers, covered in blood, and then back at me. His eyes closed and he crumpled to the ground. Once again I had been sprayed with blood that wasn't my own. I stared down at Darren's body in disbelief.

Suddenly the door burst open and Hotch, Rossi, and Spencer ran into the room, guns at the ready. Hotch and Rossi left to the check the rest of the apartment, but Spencer was kneeling down to cut the rope from Morgan's hands. I watched, paralyzed as Spencer checked Alison for a pulse. He shook his head at Derik. So I had killed her.

Hotch and Rossi came back in the room.

"It's clear," said Rossi. "I'm gonna go fetch the medic." I noticed, without really understanding that Spencer wasn't looking at me. I knew I should care, but I only felt cold and unmoving. Hotch said something to me and I turned to look at him, not comprehending. He gently took my hand in one of his.

"She's freezing," he said. He sounded far away. "She's in shock." My knees buckled and Hotch caught me, softly lowering me to the ground. My vision tunneled and the last thing I saw was Hotch's concerned face as I blacked out.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Paige's POV

I woke up on a gurney in the back of the ambulance. There were a few EMTs taking my vitals, and JJ was next to me. I slowly sat up, at the protest of the EMTs. I was being given oxygen through tubes in my nose.

"JJ," I said anxiously. "Is Derek okay?" She smiled.

"Yes, he's fine. He has a slight concussion, so they are going to take him to the hospital just to keep track of his vitals. Are you okay?" I shrugged.

"Nothing broken," I replied. While that was true, I wasn't sure if I'd ever be truly okay again. I'd killed someone, and that could never be undone. JJ gave me a sympathetic look, as if she knew what I was thinking.

"There's blood all over your face," she said quietly. "Is it yours?" A tear leaked out of my eye and I wiped it away. From the grimace on JJ's face I could tell I had just smeared blood across my cheek.

"No," I answered. I turned to the EMT. "I should probably get an HIV test," I said to them. One, a young woman with short hair, nodded and went to get one. Once that had been taken care of, (I tested negative for now but I knew I would need to be retested in three months), JJ helped me out of the ambulance. I looked around for Spencer, and eventually saw him leaning against one of the BAU SUVs. His hands were in his pockets and he was staring at the ground. I looked at JJ questioningly. She sighed.

"It was really dangerous what you did," she said cautiously. "You very easily could have been killed."

"I almost was," I murmured.

"I think Spence is still struggling with that," she continued, her brow furrowed. "You should talk to him." I turned to see Derek in a second ambulance, protesting as one of the well-meaning EMTs attempted to put an IV in his arm. Putting off talking to Spencer for a moment, I went to see Derek.

"Hey," I said nonchalantly, stepping up into the vehicle. He looked up at me and smiled; his argument with the EMT forgotten. Then he frowned.

"You look pretty busted up, kid," he said. "You gonna be okay?" I nodded.

"What about you?" I asked. "Are you okay? What did they do to you?" He sighed and gingerly touched the back of his head.

"They took pretty good care of me, considering," he said. "They hit me over the head to abduct me, but after that they gave me food and water and didn't hurt me. They did drug me, at first." This seemed hard for him to admit. For the first time I thought about how this must be affecting his pride. The big bad FBI agent being abducted probably didn't sit well with him.

"Once I'm out of the hospital, we have to have a talk you and me," he said.

"What about?" I asked. Unwillingly, my eyes filled up with tears. "Are you angry at me too?" He reached over and took my hand, his large warm hand practically covering mine. He sighed.

"Reid's not happy huh?" he asked. I shook my head and wiped away an errant tear. "Well I can't really blame him," he said calmly. "You did risk your life to save mine, and while I appreciate it, from what Hotch has told me it wasn't necessary. You could have died, kid," he said, and his voice shook a little. "Do you know what that would have done to me if you had died trying to save me? I don't think I could have handled it. I'm having a hard enough time as it is." I nodded glumly. He pulled me towards him and I carefully hugged him around the tubes and wires they had him hooked up to. I took a deep breath and tried to stop crying once I saw that my tears were staining his shirt.

"I'm glad you're alive," I said to him, not moving from our embrace.

"Back atcha Sugar," he said tenderly, and then let me go. "Go home," he told me faux sternly. "I'll see you later."

I got up and climbed out of the ambulance. Spencer was waiting by the SUV. I walked over to him, my legs still a little wobbly. I stopped in front of him, awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

"Hotch told me they want to keep you at the hospital over-night," he said, not looking at me.

"I don't want to," I said. "I want to go home…with you." He said nothing but turned and opened the passenger side door. I climbed in and he shut it behind me before getting in the driver's seat.

He was silent the whole drive to the BAU office where we picked up his car, then the whole drive to his apartment. He didn't say a word when we were inside, just walked into his bedroom. I didn't follow him, sensing he needed a moment, but went into the bathroom. It was the first time I'd gotten a look at my face, and I gasped out loud when I saw it.

My fight with Alison had given me a fist-sized bruise on my right cheekbone, and my lip was split. This was underneath the fine spray of blood that covered my face and neck and part of my shirt. It was smeared in places, mostly around my eyes, making me look like I had war paint on. My hair was a sticky, frizzy mess. A shower was most definitely in order.

I got in and stood under the hot water with my eyes closed, wondering if I would ever truly feel clean. I jumped as the shower curtain was pushed back, and sighed in relief when Spencer climbed in with me. I don't know what I had been expecting, but Spencer was a welcome sight. He wrapped his arms around me and crushed me to his chest. I put my hands on his narrow hips and gently bit the base of his neck, where I knew he liked it. He made a small contented noise and captured my lips with his, kissing me breathless. He turned me so that my back was pressed against the dripping wall of the shower and lifted me so that my legs were wrapped around his torso. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him for all I was worth. It was clear we both needed comfort from each other.

After our passionate sex and we had finished our shower, we both got out and dried off. He still hadn't said anything to me other than words of encouragement and instruction while we were making love, and it was beginning to freak me out. I didn't get dressed, but rolled into bed naked and fell asleep almost instantly. I was too tired for words, and I didn't know what I would say if I wasn't.

When I woke up I could tell that I had already slept most of the day away. I slid out from the sheets and wrapped myself in my bathrobe. My stomach growled and I decided my first priority was food. I wandered to the kitchen and helped myself to the lukewarm half-pot of coffee that Spencer had left. I poured myself a bowl of cereal and opened the fridge to get milk, but there was none. So I ate the dry cereal, leaning against the counter. The house was completely silent, and I wondered if Spencer had gone to work. He usually left a note if he went somewhere, but perhaps under these circumstances he'd decided not to. Maybe he was too angry to let me know where he was going.

Once I was done my breakfast I got dressed and wondered what to do with the rest of my short day. It was already evening but I felt wide awake and restless. I needed to do something, I just wasn't sure what. Finally, I decided to head to the hospital to check on Derek. I wasn't sure if he was still there, but I couldn't sit in the house alone. It was driving me crazy. I went into Spencer's office to get a piece of paper to write him a note letting him know where I was going. Even if he didn't show me the same courtesy I would do it for him.

As I walked in, Spencer spun around in his chair hearing me approach. He startled me so badly that I burst into tears. I hadn't known he was in the house, let alone in the office, and being surprised for some reason triggered an intense reaction. He was immediately out of his chair and holding me in his arms.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Did I scare you?"

"Yes," I said. "I didn't think anyone was in the house." I took a step back from him and wiped the tears from my eyes. He was studying me, and I didn't like it. "What?" I asked; defensive all of a sudden. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's what I thought," he said, almost to himself. "I suspected it when you jumped last night when I opened the shower curtain. You're suffering from hyper-vigilance." I sniffed and pressed my back against the wall.

"What's that?" I asked.

"It's a mild form of post-traumatic stress disorder," he said. "The symptoms are that you are easily startled and take extra precautions to protect yourself, like keeping your back to a wall," he remarked mildly. "It's common in people that have experienced traumatic events, like you did yesterday."

"Well that's lovely," I remarked sarcastically. "How do I stop it?"

"It will go away over time," he said calmly, then turned away and sat back down in his office chair. His back was stiff, and despite his calm demeanor I could tell he was still harboring the resentment from the day before.

"You're angry at me," I observed.

"Yes," he replied, not looking at me.

"Are you going to explain why?" I asked, my own annoyance starting to heat up. He put his pen down and this time he did look at me, his face uncharacteristically furious.

"I shouldn't have to explain why," he said, every word shot out of him like a bullet. "But since you asked, I will." He stood up from the desk again and stood in front of me, his arms crossed. "It has to do with the little thing you did yesterday. You know the one…knowingly walking into a death trap? If you're going to try to commit suicide, Paige, perhaps you could consult me first?" His sarcastic tone pissed me off.

"Is it really that I almost died?" I asked, "Or is it that I almost died to save Derek?"

"You wouldn't have had put your life at risk at all if you had just told me what you were planning! You could have had back up!" He was avoiding the question and we both knew it. "Don't you trust me?" he asked.

"…Yes," I replied, but I winced as we both realized that the answer came too late.

"Why don't you?" he asked. "What have I done to betray your trust?" I realized that because of Derek's disappearance, we had never really talked about why I had run away to Maine. So we got into it. We argued for almost three hours. There was yelling, insults (on my part), slamming doors, and at one point I even pushed him. I'd never been so worked up in my entire life, and I don't think he had ever been either, although he stayed many degrees calmer than I was.

As is the way with arguments, we both brought up things that had been bothering us. I brought up Lila and telling the team about my nightmares, even though they seemed like problems from a lifetime ago, they were still bothering me. He brought up how I just ran away to Maine when things got tough, my (what he called) "overly affectionate" relationship with Derek, and (again his words) my "propensity to try and get myself killed." After hours of arguing, we both were emotionally exhausted. I sat on the bed with my back to him, and he stood with his back to me staring out the window.

"So what do we do now?" I asked after a long silence. He sighed and I could tell he was thinking. After an even longer silence, his shoulders slumped.

"I don't know," he replied.

"I know," I said suddenly, and this surprised him enough that he turned around to look at me.

"What?" he asked.

"We compromise," I said with certainty. He breathed a sigh of relief. "For example," I started, "I promise that when I'm upset about something I won't run away from it, but try and talk it out with you instead. Now it's your turn." He walked around the bed and sat next to me, which I took as a good sign.

"I promise not to have any more contact with Lila," he said. I smiled. I extended my hand, and he shook it.

"That's one set of problems out of the way," I said. "Now what else would you like from me?" He thought for a moment.

"Will you promise to talk to me, or at least tell me before you make possibly life-altering or life-ending decisions?" he asked. I was tempted to smile at his wording, but his face told me he was very serious.

"I promise," I said, and he sighed in relief. "If you promise me that you won't tell the team details about our life together," I finished. He seemed happy to agree to that, and we shook hands again. I leaned forward and kissed him, thinking the whole situation was settled. He returned the kiss, but pulled away after a moment.

"There's one more thing," he said, and I knew what he wanted. "I want you to promise not to be friends with Morgan anymore." I hated to do it, but I had to refuse.

"I can't do that Spencer."

"Why not? I promised not to contact Lila anymore," he pointed out.

"That's different," I said. "You and Lila were sleeping together, and Derek and I are just friends."

"He wants to be more than friends and we both know it," his annoyance was returning, and I didn't want to start another argument.

"What if I promised not to spend time with him unless you are there too?" I asked. He thought about it.

"I guess that would be okay," he said reluctantly. "And can you also tell me if he calls you?" I nodded, happy to agree if it meant I could still be friends with Derek. Sighing in relief, I laid back onto the bed, and Spencer did too. He put an arm around me and pulled me up against his side. I felt more content than I had in a long time.

"You know what Spencer?" I asked.

"What?" he asked, kissing the top of my head. I smiled and pressed my face into his chest.

"I think we're going to make it," I said.

"Make what?" he asked, confused. I laughed.

"No, make it, as in, last for a long time," I said. "If our relationship could last through that argument I think it could last through anything."

"You may be right," he said. He seemed to be lost in thought. I rolled over, grabbed the phone, and started dialing.

"Who are you calling?" he asked.

"The Chinese Food place," I replied. "You have no food in this house…again." We both laughed.


End file.
